Young Justice: Deathly Weapons
by Three Ways Divided
Summary: Hunted. Haunted. Hero. Kryptonians aren't the only species with weaponisation potential. [I do not own Young Justice or Danny Phantom. All rights respectively to Warner Bros/DC comics/Cartoon Network/Greg Weisman/Brandon Vietti and Butch Hartman/Nickelodeon] (During/Post YJ season 1. Post DP - no Phantom Planet)
1. Prologue: For Humanity as a Whole

**Greetings Travellers. Welcome to my first ever fanfiction - YJ:DW a Young Justice x Danny Phantom crossover. I've enjoyed what I've written so far, and hopefully you will enjoy reading it. Obviously I'm new to this, so reviews are appreciated. Flames less so, but I'll take what I can get.**

 **I already have the first few chapters of this story roughed out, but I am writing this while studying, so updates will probably be irregular. That being said, I will try to put up something once a month. I don't intend to abandon this story (Trust me, I know full well how much that sucks for the reader) but this is a chaotic semester. Feel free to PM me if I fall off the radar for an unreasonably long period.**

 **Quick disclaimer: While I own the plot I claim no ownership of Young Justice or Danny Phantom.  
All rights respectively to Warner Bros/DC comics/Cartoon Network/Greg Weisman/Brandon Vietti and Butch Hartman/Nickelodeon.**

 **Otherwise, read, review and hopefully see you in the next chapter. Let the adventure begin!**

* * *

 **Prologue: For Humanity as a Whole**

On the surface the meeting would seem to be quite above board.

It was late afternoon. The sky outside showed the faintest trace of gold, the sun traced its way towards the horizon. Light seeped through the glass windows, illuminating the meeting room high among the skyscrapers of New York. A plate of pastries and two emptied coffee cups occupied the centre of the table, surrounded by immaculately laid out manila folders, business contracts and blueprints. Plans were discussed, prices negotiated and deals made. Advanced access to a prototype for a discount on a large software package. A contract for the transfer of staff members between the research and development laboratories of their respective companies. A 10 percent share in a company in exchange for additional project grants. Polite small talk. A recent win by the Green Bay Packers. Coming and goings in the city of Metropolis.

All in all it was a typical meeting. Just two powerful businessmen with the potential for joint projects. All completely above board.

But anyone who kept their eyes and ears open to the whispers of the respective underworlds would know that this meeting was definitely anything but ordinary.

As they regarded each other across the conference table, both men understood that the charade was drawing to a close. Signing off the final contract, the older of the pair decided to broach the topic.

"I must admit to being surprised Mr Luthor. While I am honoured that you would deign to meet with me in person, New York seems quite aways for someone as busy as yourself to come for mere bonds and shares."

"Not that much further than a trip from Wisconsin, Mr Masters. And I always value a chance to meet my esteemed colleagues."

"But of course."

A short expectant silence gathered in the room before the other man continued.

"Now that you mention it, I do have one more… proposition, before we finish. Outside of my own personal businesses, I belong to a small, selective cohort of… influential individuals. My colleagues and I wish to benefit mankind. We envision an evolved, _enlightened_ humanity. A species fit to stand tall, to take our rightful place in the greater cosmos."

"An admirable aim indeed. And where does a mere man such as I belong in this grand vision?"

"You see, Mr Masters, throughout history few things have puzzled humanity more than life itself. The mystery of our own mortality and… what comes after. What say you?"

"'The last enemy that shall be defeated is death'. But I'm unsure as to why you think I can help with this puzzle."

"From what I have heard you are somewhat of an expert in this… particular field."

"I dabbled a little. It intrigued me when I was younger, but after an… unfortunate accident… I decided that I would be best served turning my attentions elsewhere. A profitable choice, as you can see."

"Quite understandable. But you do have information."

"And?"

"And we'd like to propose a deal. A contract of sorts."

From the briefcase at his side, Luthor withdrew a thin black file, sliding it delicately across the table. The elder opened it curiously, raising an eyebrow at the contents. A photograph of an attractive woman with cropped auburn hair featured prominently. He carefully examined the text that accompanied the image, eyes widening slightly before he regained his composure.

"You are a lucky man Mr Masters. Blessed with opportunities that come to only a rare few. But there was always one opportunity that evaded you - the greatest of them all. We would offer you that opportunity. A second chance… with a few undesirable variables removed."

The grey-haired businessman frowned thoughtfully as he contemplated the contents of the folder. It was a hugely valuable offer. Once in a lifetime perhaps.

"And in return?"

Lex smiled thinly. "Information"

Masters nodded to himself, seemingly reaching a conclusion.

"The beings you seek are… elusive. Powerful and mysterious, but difficult to find. They reside within their own plane and the rifts that form between our worlds are few and rarely last more than a moment; hardly long enough to support an expedition. But there is another option."

From his breast pocket Masters withdrew a slim smartphone, calling an image of two humanoid figures onto the screen.

"A rare breed. These are the only two I have encountered; possibly the only two in existence. Perhaps more useful to your research as they closely resemble humans and favour life on our side of the veil. Needless to say they can be energetic, powerful, wilful and supremely uncooperative. I can provide you with some of the equipment needed to take them into captivity. The government's paranormal investigation unit may also be of service. Not the field agents – they are notoriously gung-ho – but certain members of the research division might be persuaded… for the right price of course."

"And we will have your full co-operation in this?"

"Naturally. I will provide you with whatever you desire, be it within my power."

"Then we are agreed." Luthor extended his hand, smiling as Masters clasped it with a firm cool grip. "To a successful endeavour."

The elder man smiled thinly in return before pausing. "If I could ask a favour?"

Luthor raised a brow at the request.

"It's nothing serious. Forgive an old man's sentimentality but once you have the beings in your custody… You may do whatever you wish with the female, I have no interest in her. However, the male was the first of his kind that I encountered and, though he is wild, I will admit to having developed a certain fondness for the boy. So I would ask that, once you have discovered what you need, you would allow me to take possession of him; that is, if he is still in serviceable condition."

Lex nodded. "An interesting request. We will consider it."

"That's all I can ask, old friend."

Luthor's phone chimed gently. "I'm sorry, but I have another appointment to keep." He smiled apologetically at the older man as he placed files back into his dark case. "It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Masters. I'm sure we'll be in touch soon."

"I assure you Mr Luthor, the pleasure was mine."

Vlad turned towards the window as his enhanced hearing detected the departure of the elevator from his floor. The view was truly spectacular. Looking down at the black folder in his hands, Masters had to admit that the pieces had fallen into place perfectly. Only three things in life had escaped his grasp and within the space of a business meeting two were practically in the palm of his hand. Not that everything was guaranteed to work out. He had no illusions about Luthor's capacity to double-cross him. But while Lex may stand on par with Vladimir Masters, and occasionally be capable of outwitting a certain blue boy scout, he was a far cry from playing in the same league as Vlad _Plasmius_. It really was too bad that the existence of a third 'rare ghost' had slipped his mind during their talk. And as for his _little badger…_

He smirked. Luthor and his 'associates' were playing exactly into his hands. No doubt Daniel would eventually come to him seeking protection from his pursuers. And if not, well there was a high chance that his new colleagues would agree to relinquish the boy into his custody. After all, he could be very _persuasive_.

The sun dropped below the horizon, sending red and orange rays across the city. Taking in the skyline, Vlad allowed a true, cruel smile to claim his face. No trick of the evening light could disguise the scarlet glow in the businessman's usually blue eyes.

Now, if only he could get the Packers on side.


	2. Chapter 1: Chance Encounters

**Chapter 1: Chance Encounters**

Looking down the deep shaft of the high speed elevator – a shaft that was conspicuously absent from the 2 story building's official blueprints – the three young heroes had to admit that there probably was something to the Batman's suspicions about Project Cadmus.

Then again, investigation was why they were there.

As he descended the shaft, feeling the vibrations in the cable as Aqualad and Kid Flash swung themselves down after him, a small part of Robin fumed internally. So they were "not trained", "not ready"; supposed to "stay put" like good little kids while The League handled the big scary jobs. What a load! Yes they were young, but they definitely _weren't_ some greenwood rookies who needed to have their hands held! And that was why they had come to Cadmus. To prove themselves. To beat the League at their own game; solve the case before their mentors even started looking. Sure, Bats was going to be less than whelmed when they got back, but if they did the job and did it clean then what was the harm? Besides, he smirked; it wouldn't be fun if they weren't a little reckless.

But back to business. They had bizarre genetics lab to investigate.

Reaching the end of his rope, Robin swung himself towards the shaft door of Sublevel 26, alighting on the ledge. Activating the holo-screen of the computer in his glove the Boy Wonder tapped into the local network, diving into the coding separating them from the facility.

"Bypassing securing… there. Go!"

"Welcome to Project Cadmus."

* * *

Things were definitely pushing the far boundaries of weird. The large elephant-troll-like creatures that had nearly stepped on Kid Flash hadn't done anything to convince the three heroes that Cadmus was normal. Even stranger was the feeling of shifting fog that had filled their heads at a look from the small, gnome-like beasts on the trolls' shoulders. The fact that they hadn't been in the building for more than 5 minutes before being spotted wasn't helping either.

As they moved towards the large metal door at the end of the hallway, the Boy Wonder had to admit that the fire above ground was a perfect diversion. With eyes drawn to the emergency at street level, there would be fewer people on alert for movement in the deep lab. With luck they would be able to get in, find what they needed and get out without causing an incident.

A few more lines of code on the holo-screen and, once again, the door lay open. The team gaped at the sight of the room. Glass cylinders stretched to the ceiling, the glowing creatures within buzzing and crackling as they supplied power to unknown machines. The eerie blue light cast deep, distorted shadows around the room, nearly concealing the computer bank at the centre. And the smallish, black-and-white clad figure standing there, typing quickly but furtively at the keys.

Looks like someone else had had the same idea.

The heroes froze, stepping back into the shadows. Contact with another person was definitely something to avoid, though the individual was currently occupied by the screen. Robin gave him a quick once over. Young, probably the same age as themselves. Pure white hair, fair skin and a black jumpsuit - possibly a chemical protection suit - accented by white gloves, collar, boots and belt. A faint white glow seemly surrounded his person, although that could have been trick of the strange light.

"Great," the mystery figure scowled at the screen "not only do the Fruitloops chase us all around the country, now I'm playing ' _Where's Wally?'_ with samples in a freaky lab."

He glanced upwards, scanning the room nervously. _'So, he's not meant to be here either'_ Robin noted, keeping as still as possible. Neon green eyes pierced the gloom, locking onto the Boy Wonder. They both froze, stiffening as they waited for the other to take action. The stranger stayed rigid, his eyes flickering away, picking out the silhouettes of Kid Flash and Aqualad. Robin noticed another flash of white - some kind of symbol on his chest. The boy suddenly exploded into action, twisting to the screen, rapidly opening and closing files before ripping a small thumbdrive from the console. Eyes wide with panic he sprang away from the computers, vanishing into thin air. The three heroes felt a gust of wind, something passed them at great speed.

Then he was gone.

Robin exhaled shakily, torn between relief and greater anxiety. He shared a nervous look with the others. If they were going to investigate Cadmus they had to do it _now_ , before any more unpleasant surprises showed up.

Kid Flash looked around the room, searching for a place to start. The speedster gestured towards the electrical, beetle-like creatures in the glass tubes.

"This is how they hide this massive underground facility from the world. The real Cadmus isn't on the grid. It generates its own power using these… _things_. Must be what they're bred for."

Robin nodded. _Cadmus_ was the mission. The mystery boy could wait for another time.


	3. Chapter 2: Shadow of Doubt

**Chapter 2: Shadow of Doubt**

"Do you have them?"

"Yes."

"Closing in now."

"Good. Stay in pursuit. Do not engage unless necessary. We must discover the source, along with any and all other participants involved."

The three heroes moved quietly to follow the pair of figures as they walked into an abandoned office. Slipping to the ground, Aqualad cautiously entered through an emergency exit. Robin remained on the outside, leaping silently from the scaffold of a nearby building to manoeuvre his way along the sculpted ridge that wrapped below the windows. Artemis took her position on an adjacent roof, long-range microphone primed as she moved stealthily from window to window, maintaining a clear shot.

The mission was unusual, but straightforward. Over the past two weeks an apparent 'wave of depression' had swept a large corner of Portland, Oregon. The 'wave' had overtaken the majority of the people in the region, evidenced in falling school grades and work productivity, rising absenteeism, increased reports of mental episodes, suicides; despite stable economic conditions. Usually the League wouldn't take active interest in such matters – leaving it to local authorities and services – but the encounter with Starro-tech at New Year's increased the priority of any reports of large-scale abnormal behaviour. Especially suspect was the fact that the 'wave' occurred in a city where Zeta-tube access was currently disabled; a combined product of poor weather and a systematic upgrade of the whole network in attempt to increase security following the aforementioned incident with Vandal Savage and his 'Light'. A team was sent in, taking the bioship to investigate. The parameters were simple: identify any common denominators, discover the source of 'the wave' - should it exist – and, if possible, apprehend the responsible individuals.

Selection of teammates was one of availability. Dr. Fate had reluctantly called for Zatanna's aid in investigating a new lead on the whereabouts of the witch boy, Klarion. Rocket was off-world, assisting Icon on personal business. Wally, M'gann and Conner all had civilian commitments. Which left Aqualad, Artemis and Robin to investigate; though Batman informed them that Superman and Martian Manhunter were standing by if needed.

After four days they had identified what looked to be a pair of key players in the outbreak. Investigation, both as civilians during daylight and in full capacity after dark, had flagged a common point among the worst affected areas. One Penelope Simmons and her assistant, Bertrand Rossi. Employment records, surveillance photographs and witness statements described a tall, leonine woman, red hair pulled into a professional bun, accompanied by a stocky, grey-haired gentleman. The pair had been sighted working as therapists and councillors at a number of schools and free clinics frequented by the effected population. Some casual hacking by Robin revealed a more disturbing detail: no record of the duo existed beyond the levels needed to pass the background checks for their positions. There was none of the incidental evidence that came with a real person. Undercover operatives seemed likely. Security footage had captured the pair coming and going at unusual hours of the night - presumably meeting other partners who supplied the chemicals or technology that kept the population under their depressive control.

With this information the team had opted to follow the supposed 'therapists' on their nightly venture. The teenaged heroes moved quietly as they tracked the pair through the long-emptied cubicles and conference rooms. Artemis patched the conversation registered by her microphone to the com sets of her teammates.

"Do you think we have enough yet?" A polished male voice – 'Mr Rossi' – asked in clipped tones.

"Oh, my dear," a smooth female voice – undoubtedly 'Ms Simmons' – replied with a laugh, "of course we do. By why stop at a slice when we can take the whole cake?"

"Planning to expand their operations?" Aqualad murmured quietly into his com.

"Sounds like it," Robin whispered back.

"The big question is," came Artemis' voice down the link "how're they doing it to start with?"

"Oh, Bertrand?" Simmons spoke casually to her assistant as the pair moved into a large workspace, "It seems we're being rude. Would you be so kind as to greet our guests?"

The pair outside heard a shout from Kaldur's position as a growl sounded from the building. Robin vaulted over the window frame, dropping in quietly to assist his friend. A crash from the opposite wall told him that Artemis had had the same idea, rappelling through the glass to aid their downed teammate. Neither was fully prepared for what they saw.

The grey haired gentleman – Bertrand – was nowhere to be found. Instead, Aqualad had hit the ground, rolling out of the way as a glowing green, bear-like creature with iridescent red eyes charged the fallen Atlantean. Robin frantically gestured for Artemis to assist their comrade, running to distract Simmons, who was watching the struggle with an amused smile. He heard the twang of bowstrings as the archer launched her assault, reaching into his own belt to hurl a smoke pellet at the smirking woman. He flung a set of bolas as the dark fog erupted, seeing the weighted cable spread as it entered the cloud. Robin waited for the sound that would tell him that the ties had successfully entrapped their target, but it never came. Instead, Simmons strode calmly out of the smoke, smile even wider than before.

"Now, is that any way to treat a lady?"

The Boy Wonder recovered quickly, firing the cables of his taser to deliver a small electric shock; enough to put the woman out for an hour or so. His eyes widened as her form became transparent, the sparking barbs passing cleanly through her body. _'Martian?'_ he wondered, changing tactics. This time he launched a low-level explosive disk – strong enough to generate heat and stagger a person, but not enough to severely injure. Even if she was Martian it would definitely give her something to think about.

He was stunned when, instead of dodging, the woman carelessly caught the device, allowing it to detonate in her hand. Robin's throat tightened as the smoke cleared to reveal an inky black shadow with merciless red eyes. Whatever _it_ was, it clearly _wasn't_ human. His eyes went to the green creature, immediately drawing the connection between the beast and the short grey man. _'What are these things?'_ From the sound of it, Artemis and Kaldur were having similar difficulties against their opponent, but with slightly more success. Robin quickly turned back to the shadow, launching his more heavy-duty projectiles. His attempts were unsuccessful, the creature either fading into her - _its_ \- seemingly intangible state or dissolving into formless mist as it allowed the weapons to pass harmlessly by. Gritting his teeth Robin drew the escrima sticks from his belt, relying on the fact that M'gann and J'onn had to stay solid to strike at close quarters. He leapt back with a startled shout as the being fired a flame-like energy blast from its hands, moving in quickly to close the distance before it could resume fire.

The Boy Wonder dropped low, trying to sweep the thing's legs out from beneath it; only to have his kick pass cleanly through as the being turned transparent again. Rolling onto his back, Robin drove both feet upwards at the shadow's chest. This time he connected, knocking it back a step. It growled deep in its throat, lashing out as he regained his footing. He sidestepped, dodging the swipes and bolts of cold fire as he aimed for specific points found on humans, atlanteans and aliens, hoping to discover a weakness. He skipped away from a claw, deflected a kick with a gloved hand, threw himself over its head in a flip as it lunged bodily. The creature twisted with inhuman speed, racing for him as he landed.

Robin crouched defensively, absorbing the blow with the exposed skin of his triceps. Icy fire trickled through his veins. Acid churned in his stomach, his throat tightened and a prickling mix of dread and despair swept through him as the creature continued to grasp at his bare arm. He wrenched himself away from the contact, staggering slightly as his heel caught on the uneven floor. The place where the shadow had grabbed him stung as though burned or frozen. The _thing_ broke into an unpleasant grin as it watched, eyes gleaming curiously.

"Oh, but you _are_ interesting," it purred, stalking forwards. The Boy Wonder flung himself backwards, wary of the malignant, poisoned touch.

"Robin!" The Atlantean had seen him stumble.

"I'm fine, keep going!" He called to Kaldur, watching his friend dodge a blow from the corner of his eye. "Take him down; I'll hold this one off!" He flung another disk, this time aiming for ground in front of the creature. Victory was short lived as the shadow prowled unharmed from the blast, reaching toward him with a twisted hand.

"And how are you going to do that hmmm, little Robin?" The creature's soft voice was filled with poisoned malice, "Tiny, tiny birdie all weighed down by chains, so _afraid_ …" the last word was drawn out with relish, barely reaching his ears. He lashed out, letting training take over, raining down a flurry of precision blows in attempt to drive the shadow back. It laughed breathlessly, "Oh look at _you_ trying _so_ hard to fight, to play at hero… but you can't. You can't. Knowing all the while you're going to fall…" its eyes glowed, "just like _they_ did." Robin's breath hitched and suddenly he was nine, standing on a platform, watching… No. _No._ He was fourteen. He was on a mission, his team needed him. He kicked with all his strength, horrified as the creature simply wavered into dark smoke before advancing. An arrow and a rope of water flew harmlessly by, and still the creature moved forward, whispers unceasing. "One... two... three... four… _five_ ," Robin tried to back away, tried to shut out the words, but they kept coming. "You were there little bird. Could have tried. Could have, should have, would have… didn't. You'll never forget, never forgive yourself." A cruel smile spread as it leaned forward to speak, almost lovingly, in his ear, "And more importantly: _They'll never forgive_ _you_." Dick staggered, reeling. Iron filled his throat, bands tightened around his heart. Memories and darkness flooded in, unerring, unstoppable. Merciless. No. He wasn't. He couldn't. He didn't. No-nononono he didn't want. Didn't mean to... A kick ripped across his torso, flinging him away. Something slammed into his back and he slid to the floor. He fumbled for his belt, fighting the dark clouds, desperate for anything, _anything_ , knowing all the while that it was hopeless. He was going to fail. He already had.

The creature smiled cruelly. "Such a scared little boy. But now my toy is broken. Guess I'll have to find another."

Robin watched helplessly as it turned on Kaldur and Artemis. His friends had almost subdued the green beast, which was slinking backwards, outline ragged, but the shadow was too strong. He struggled to shift the fog, to push himself upright as they engaged the monster. He felt rather than saw the blows, hearing them stagger, hearing cracks and crashes as they lashed out blindly, trying to hold the creature back. He shivered at the sound of the whispers, feeling the ragged pain, the torment they promised for his friends. Artemis gasped and he heard Aqualad's grunt of pain as a body hit the wall.

"Ooooh," the shadow taunted, voice delighted. "If I'd know all teenage goody-goodies were such _waterfalls_ of misery I'd have done this years ago. Maybe I should keep you hmmm? You'd make such nice _pets_."

Robin fumbled blindly for the spare com on his belt, unsure if he'd be able to get the words out; to tell the League just how badly they needed backup. He heard Artemis hit a desk, crashing through to the floor. The creature loomed victoriously. It raised a clawed hand and-

The shadow was thrown backwards, away from the downed teens. The creature hissed as it hit the floor, gesturing to its partner. The green being's form wavered as it morphed into a large cat-like beast. It crouched and growled, lunging at something unseen, only to be shunted forwards by the unknown force. The puma was suddenly lifted and carried cleanly through the wall, leaving no damage in its wake. Furious snarls and what could be a detonation erupted from outside.

The shadow rolled to its feet, expression irate. "Ecto-brat! Can't a gal have a little fun?"

"Sorry Spectra," The voice came out of nowhere, echoing through the chaos. A blast of green fire flew from the corner, striking the creature, "I don't think they want to play." Robin pushed himself weakly to his knees, searching for their unexpected ally. The shadow released a wave of energy in the direction of the fire. Someone huffed as an unseen object collided with the wall.

"I need your help."

Robin started as the echoing voice spoke softly beside him. He shivered, trying to push away the crying doubt as he glanced in the direction of the unseen speaker.

"She," Robin assumed the voice meant the shadow, "has to stay tangible to hit you. And she can't do her mist trick properly if she's distracted. Back me up?"

Memory of the pain roared in his mind, urging him to hide. Robin swallowed shakily against the sudden fear, nodding as he watched the being stalk towards the corner.

"Hiding little pest? You always were the coward," the creature called, head turning as it searched the room. It lashed out at Robin's attempted movement sending a wave of energy towards the Boy Wonder. He rolled away weakly, feeling it graze his stinging arm. Something slammed the shadow again, making it stagger. It laughed mercilessly.

"You think you can save them _hero_? Ha! You can barely save yourself."

A low growl sounded in response, green fire flying at the shadow, who passed through it like water. The monster smiled cruelly, reaching out to grasp an unseen throat, pinning it to the wall.

"Please, you think you can win? You couldn't protect your family, couldn't save your friends… why would this be any different?" Robin fumbled for a batarang, throwing it clumsily at the creature's back. His aim was off but it had the desired effect. The shadow whipped around, face twisting with anger. Fixated on him, it didn't see the glowing energy that welled up against its chest, flinging it away from its would-be victim.

"Why all the invisibility hmm?" the creature taunted as it climbed to its feet. "Afraid that your new playmates will be horrified by your hybrid self? That they'll reject you like the freak you are?"

More green fire, this time accompanied by thin spines of ice. The creature wavered into black mist, steeping lithely out of the way as it continued.

"How _convenient_ for you little halfa, everyone dying like that. You'll never have to worry about their reaction. Safe to pretend that they'd have been able to love an _abomination_." The shadow's form solidified as it lashed out again. Robin took his chance, flinging an explosive disk towards the monster. This time it saw the projectile, wavering out of tangibility and firing a concentrated ball of flames his way. The Boy Wonder threw himself desperately to the side as green light flared in front of him and a shockwave rippled through the air. Robin saw a pair of white-booted feet flicker into visibility, hearing a grunt as a body hit the wall. Then the creature was speaking again.

"Oh… how sad. And you never got to tell _her_. How you _felt_." It snorted derisively, voice full of sadistic glee. "As if she could ever love you." A black and white blur and a snarl answered as their newly-visible ally launched at the shadow, hands alight with green flames. The creature snarled in return as it grappled with the figure, throwing it into the metal lockers at the side of the room. Robin watched in mute horror as they fell, smothering their would-be rescuer, hiding him from sight. The monster tossed a few fireballs into the wreckage, outline blurring as it turned dismissively away. He had weakened it. But the shadow was nowhere near gone.

"That's it? Oh well." It turned back to the team, eyes shining coldly as it prowled towards the Boy Wonder. His throat closed over. "Now _you_ on the other hand. I was almost tempted to keep you, but you've been a _very_ bad boy. And I can't stand loose ends…" Cold fire lit its hands once more as it stepped forward. Robin struggled backwards, falling, mind going blank as dark clouds flooded in. It smiled. "Are you afraid?"

"Hey Spectra…" the shadow whirled back to the twisted metal, coming face to face with a green and white mechanical cylinder. The device hummed, emitting blue-white rings that encircled the creature, compressing it fluidly into the tube. A silver cap was slammed over the open mouth by a white-gloved hand. Their benefactor smirked tiredly, leaning heavily against the ruined lockers, "…beware."

Broken silence filled the room, punctuated only by the heavy breathing of four teens.

Robin stared up at their unexpected saviour, stunned. Pain dragged him down, fogging his vision. His mind was whirling, chest and throat burning… but the figure before him was unmistakeable. It was the boy from Cadmus. He was thinner, more ragged than Robin remembered; white hair long and shaggy. But there was no denying the glowing neon eyes or the distinctive black and white suit, despite the rips and charring that decorated the latter.

The boy walked over to Aqualad, stumbling slightly as he shifted nearby rubble to make room for the Atlantean. Artemis' bow was gently retrieved from the mess as the shivering archer rolled away from the splintered table.

Robin pushed himself upright, approaching their mysterious ally. His chest throbbed, eyes prickling unpleasantly. He swallowed hard, trying to keep the broken smallness out of his voice as he spoke.

"Hey. Thanks for the save." He extended his hand in greeting. It surprised him when his fingers didn't tremble.

The teen jumped slightly, twisting round to face him. His green eyes were haunted, but he forced a small grin of his own before reaching out hesitantly to shake the proffered appendage.

"Glad I could help. Will you be okay?" The stranger's voice had an odd echo, carrying the same aching edge that the Boy Wonder had tried to conceal in his own.

Robin hid a flinch at the question. At that moment he felt anything but. He nodded, supressing a shudder. "Yeah, we're good."

"We thank you for your assistance." The boy stepped swiftly backwards, turning to face Aqualad as he climbed to his feet, soft voice dull. "I am sorry, but we do not know your name."

"I'm nobody special," the boy replied quietly. He gave a faint, mysterious smile, "just a ghost."

And before they could say anything else he darted away, passing _through_ the wreckage that filled the room. The trio slowly and painfully gathered, negotiating their own way carefully to the bioship. It was not a good night to be a hero.


	4. Chapter 3: Scars

**Chapter 3: Scars**

The squad flew back to the cave in shaken silence. They had failed. The threat _had_ been contained, but not by them. They had never felt so _powerless_. The beast had beaten them with no apparent effort, toying with them until their mysterious ally had arrived; drawing its attention and trapping it in that strange device. All three had faced failure before, but this was different. Of the team, they were among the most emotionally controlled. Yet, somehow, that had all been _compromised_ during the night's loss. How had it known? How had the shadow known exactly what to say - the precise words that would reopen old scars, drag dark fears into the light, leave them weak, small and utterly alone? The tearing pain had eased with the disappearance of the creature, but the wounds it left lay bleeding; and so the quiet was filled with untold torment. The snap of a rope and the cries of falling bodies echoed across the years. A nine year old Artemis watched her sister slip away, family falling apart. Once again Aqualad felt the hands of his beloved pull from his as she told him that her heart belonged to another. Memories whispered behind half-closed doors.

The silhouette of Mt. Justice rose from the horizon. The feelings it brought, of safety, trust, _home_ , reached out to the heroes. A collective sigh breached the silence as the night's turmoil began a slow and reluctant retreat. Dark clouds remained, but a sense of calm and purpose touched the teens, drawing them back to the present. Three questions murmured to Robin.

 _Who was the mysterious figure? Why had he run? Where was he now?_

* * *

"Regardless of how other aspects of the mission played out, your team fulfilled its primary objective. The threat has been removed. Your performance was satisfactory." Batman was being generous. The mission had gone badly. But looking at the already subdued trio, he felt no need for a harsh reprimand. Robin stood shamefaced; smile forced, shoulders almost imperceptibly slumped, devoid of quips for the first time in months. Artemis' greeting had been overly cheerful, never reaching her eyes. She chewed her lower lip as she listened. On the surface Kaldur'ahm seemed his usual calm self, but faint lines around his mouth and the nervousness with which he curled his hands told the Dark Knight that the team's leader was equally rattled. Something had happened.

"I apologise, but I must protest." The Atlantean countered their supervisor. "Though we tried, our performance tonight was not satisfactory. We failed. It was not us who detained the creature."

"Explain."

"We engaged the being, but our attacks were ineffective. It had nearly overpowered us when a," Batman noted the split-second hesitation before Aqualad continued, "civilian intervened. It was through his involvement that the creature was captured. We were… inadequate."

"And the civilian?"

"Injured, but not severely. He left before we could question him. I am sorry." Artemis and Robin nodded in agreement, eyes downcast. Batman frowned behind his mask.

"Very well. Analyse the information you obtained. If there are others creatures like this, we must be prepared to face them. Report back to the League with your findings."

"We will. But there is something else. Information regarding an older, more personal, matter. May I speak with you privately?" Batman suspected that the 'personal matter' was related to the younger hero's earlier hesitation. He nodded.

"I have some time. Aqualad: with me. The rest of you: dismissed. Get some rest, you need it. Report for training at 0600 hours."

The trio dispersed as the other members of the team joined their friends in the main room. The remaining two began to relax, safe in the warmth of familiar company.

Kid Flash looked over to his friend with poorly concealed concern. Robin had been abnormally quiet since his return from the mission. Actually, all three of them had been. Artemis hadn't called him 'Baywatch' even once. Something was off.

"You feeling okay Rob'? You don't look so hot."

"…hm?" The speedster's question pulled the Boy Wonder from the dull veils of doubt and grief. The pain of the shadow's words was fading but their echoes still haunted him, just like he knew they did Kaldur and Artemis.

"Oh, yeah yeah KF, all good." Robin gave his friend an easy smile – one that would have fooled Wally if the speedster didn't know Dick so well. "Bummed that the mission fell through, but not much we can do, right? Still… lots to think about. Feeling a little overwhelmed at the minute." The younger hero headed for the zeta tubes, keying in the code for Gotham. "I'm gonna go play detective for a bit – there's something I need to check out. Later, dude."

 _Recognised: Robin. B-01_

Kid Flash sent a half-hearted glare in the direction of the tunnel, worries lessened but by no means gone. _Overwhelmed_. Robin had said _over_ whelmed. Whatever had happened, it was big.


	5. Chapter 4: Phenomenon

**Chapter 4: Phenomenon**

From his place among the rooftops of Seattle, Robin frowned as the phenomenon of the previous few nights repeated itself. He waited and, sure enough, within seconds a dark-haired boy in a hooded jacket appeared in the shadows of a nearby alley; exactly the same place where the signal from the tracer had cut out mere moments before.

Robin was grateful for all the years working with Batman. After the encounter with the shadow creature - ' _Spectra, wasn't it?_ ' - he would have written himself off as non-functional, but somehow training had kicked in and, almost by reflex, he had accosted their mysterious benefactor, using the handshake as cover to coat the young stranger's glove with micro-tracer gel. Not, he frowned, that tracking the signal down had been easy after that.

The Boy Wonder would admit to feeling less than astrous when the first attempt to locate the tracker had resulted in a glaring 'no signal' alert. Disappointment had quickly turned to confusion - the residual gel on his own glove was functioning just fine, but if the tracker wasn't on the blink then what was happening? Then, after two days of radio silence, as Robin was beginning to worry that their only solid lead had somehow slipped away, the tracer came online in the dead of the night, now one state over. Relief was short-lived when, after only a few hours, it went off-line again. The signal continued to sporadically appear and disappear over the next few days, a pattern quickly becoming clear. Every night, sometime after sundown, the beacon would come online, moving through the city. Then, in the early hours of the morning, before sunrise, it would vanish. Clearly their new 'friend' was almost as nocturnal as the Bat. Better yet, the signal seemed centre itself around a particular place. Plotting the points where the beacon had appeared and disappeared, Robin traced a rough circle. A dead zone of approximately three block radius in a more industrialised part of town. With this information, an excursion was in order for Gotham's infamous duo. The hunt was on for an elusive quarry.

Down in the alley, the boy was on the move. Robin shook himself out of his musings as he followed silently from the rooftops. This too was part of the pattern. They would follow the tracker around the city, which their target seemed to invisibly patrol. They would head towards the 'dead zone', where the signal would vanish. And then the boy would appear, apparently out of nowhere, always in the cover of deep shadows or other obstacles. The deep hood of his baggy jacket and the dark glasses he normally wore made it hard to see his face, but from his height and build Robin guessed that he was young. Probably in his mid to late teens; even early twenties if he was a late bloomer. The boy walked the streets with the casual wariness of someone out late in a rough neighbourhood. Or at least, that was what a civilian would think. Robin's trained eye picked up the tighter shoulders, the small motions that betrayed that fact that this person was on high alert. Their target continued to wander, path seemingly random, but Robin knew from experience where the trail would lead. The boy was heading for the storage lockup near the centre of the zone. Every night, the boy's walks eventually led him to the business, either to the front door or down the alley to the side, upon which he, much like the tracker, would vanish. Robin made a note to canvas the building and hack its systems once the night's patrol was finished.

He frowned, considering a possibility that had occurred to him the previous day. The tracker would vanish whenever the boy appeared. Always in the same place, and within seconds of each other. Not that there wasn't such thing as coincidence, but the same coincidence night after night? Definitely suspicious. Obviously their normally-invisible friend was connected to this other stranger, but how closely? Apart from height and build, the two looked little alike. Then again, neither did Billy and Captain Marvel. Was the same thing possible here? He didn't know. Something told him his guess was right, but it instinctively felt _off, wrong_ even. There was just _something_ about the white-haired kid that the dark-haired boy didn't have. He shrugged mentally. Either way, the new boy was a much more tangible lead than their current target. If they didn't make contact soon, the kid would probably get a visit from the Bat.

Even compared to the unbelievable things Robin had done with the team, this particular mission was nudging onto the strange radar. But then again, if he had guessed correctly, the person they were dealing with definitely didn't fit any known description of normal. He shook his head disbelievingly, thinking of the 'research' that had led them to their current stakeout.


	6. Chapter 5: Ghost Stories

**Here is a small fact**  
Italicised chapters/ blocks of text = flashbacks/ memories

 **As always: read, review and hopefully enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Ghost Stories**

 _It was really getting ridiculous. In his years with Batman and months on the team, Robin had met with lords of order, chaotic demon children, clones, aliens, deep sea dwellers, androids and more. He had even been lucky enough to kiss a certain sorceress at New Year's while in orbit on a secret satellite. But never did the young detective think that he would ever be forced to take the urban legends of a small town and cuttings from paranormal blogs as the most solid leads on a case. By now he should know better than to expect the universe to make sense._

 _As soon as he had had a spare moment in the chaos that followed the Cadmus incident, Robin had tried to identify the mysterious figure from the power room. But, to his surprise, all leads had come up blank. The person didn't work for Cadmus; employment files and statements from Guardian confirmed it, if the boy's reaction to being discovered hadn't been evidence enough. Next Robin had searched all League, Arkham, Belle Reve and other records of superhumans and nonhumans for anyone who fitted the stranger's estimated age range and physical description, could turn invisible or shapeshift. Once again, there was no match – whoever this person was, they weren't in the system. In mild desperation he had contacted Guardian to pull the video feed from the power room on the night of the fire. If he could get a freeze frame of the boy he could run a broader facial recognition sweep. But that led to another problem. Someone had somehow modified the tapes, replacing the figure with scrambled pixels in every image. They had done a surprisingly thorough job too, resisting all attempts to peel back the distorting code. Whoever it was, they knew their way around computers. With that thought, the Boy Wonder tried to follow the activity on the computer used by the stranger; if he knew what the boy had been searching for he might be able to work backwards. But the terminal records were blank – there was no evidence that anyone had touched the machine from the time the fire was reported. Each and every lead he tried ran cold. It was as if the boy didn't exist._

 _The enigma continued to occupy a small corner of Robin's mind during his first month as part of the League's new covert ops team. Something to return to when things were quiet; poking and prodding the issue like an impossible Rubik's cube, looking for the one angle, slant or twist that would shift everything into alignment. But as time passed, new members joined and more important cases had come to light, the Boy Wonder put it out of his mind - much like Wally and Kaldur had done long ago._

 _Then the mysterious figure was suddenly thrust back to the forefront of their attentions. Robin had been driven to pacing the Batcave in sheer frustration - how was he meant to find a new lead when he had already exhausted every option! There was no video feed of the fight and, although none of them would admit it, he, Artemis and Kaldur were all too shaken by the shadow creature and its words to remember many useful details. He had planted a tracker but - much like any semblance of logic on this mission - it had fallen through. The stranger himself had been less than helpful with his cryptic… wait. "just a ghost". That's what the boy had said. Robin had laughed at the thought. But what if…? Common sense had already jumped ship; that was painfully clear. So perhaps an illogical approach, "a truly dumb idea" as they had once put it, was the answer to solving this case._

* * *

 _"You have a new lead." The Batman's voice echoed faintly through the duo's headquarters as he moved silently to his protégé's side._

 _"Yes and no. I've found something, but it's not exactly_ tangible _"_

 _"In what way?" Robin could almost hear Batman's eyebrow lifting. He smirked internally, knowing how his mentor would react to the next revelation._

 _"What are your thoughts on ghosts?"_

 _Batman frowned. Dick may have a love for the cryptic and dramatic, but the young detective certainly wasn't one for childish fantasy. Obviously he had found something important, and at the moment the Dark Knight wasn't in the mood for their usual games._

 _"What did you find?"_

 _Robin grumbled mentally at the blunt reply, allowing his gloved hands to dance across the keyboard of the control panel. Files and blurry photos filled the largest screen, mostly news articles and paranormal blogs. Batman noted a small handful of government watermarked documents in the mix._

 _"Kaldur told you about the 'help' we had on the mission, when he met with you after the briefing?" The Dark Knight nodded in affirmation though he knew it wasn't really a question. "I don't know if he mentioned this as well, but we've seen that boy before. A while ago - Independence Day - at project Cadmus." Another nod._

 _"After our first encounter I tried to find out who the kid was. I looked down all the normal routes and then some, but couldn't find anything. No records, no photos, videos, nothing. He wasn't on any League or other lists of known super's. He even managed to hack the Cadmus system and blur his own image on the video feed, as well as wiping any trace of his activity from the computers. Did a whelmingly good job too – I couldn't bring back the originals no matter what I threw at them. I followed all the other leads I could think of, but there wasn't anything solid out there to find, so I let it drop." Robin chuckled humourlessly "I probably would have called hallucination if KF and Aqualad hadn't seen him too."_

 _"And when he reappeared?"_

 _"I went been back over all the old data with the new intel, but nothing useful stood out. I thought I might have a new lead, but it went dead fast. I planted a tracker," Robin made a frustrated gestured to a screen off to one side, still resolutely blank, "but it's been offline ever since. We're stuck at the status quo – he doesn't officially exist."_

 _"Except for the fact that you've seen and made contact with him on several occasions."_

 _"Exactly. Then I remembered something he said before running off. He mentioned being a ghost. I thought he was just being cryptic, but then I wondered. After all, invisibility, walking through walls? So I started looking up stories. One in particular got me."_

 _Robin gestured to the main screen, filled with headlines - 'Invis-O-Bill Strikes Again', 'Danny Phantom Saves Kids', 'A Phantom Menace?' ,'Ghost-Boy to the Rescue'._

 _"An urban legend, the 'Phantom of Amity Park'. Apparently protects the town. According to the myths, he takes the shape of a young boy or teenager, with white hair, green eyes and a black and white suit. Description matches our mystery man almost perfectly."_

 _"Why didn't the League know about this?"_

 _"Because, from what I've read, Amity Park has a long-running reputation for ghost stories. Locals have been claiming sightings for decades now, though 'reports' only became common around 2 years back. The league sent someone to look into it a few years earlier, but with no solid evidence of paranormal activity it was pretty much written off as a tourist grab. It did attract a number of so-called ghost-specialists and hunters to the town, but no-one heard much on that front either. The people of Amity seem to take it as their calling card. They released statements claiming ghosts were responsible for some major events – remember the plant fiasco and freak storms the year before last?"_

 _"There was a jailbreak at Arkham. Poison Ivy was one of the prisoners to escape. The source of the storms was never traced – presumably a natural disaster."_

 _"Well, rumours from Amity claimed that ghosts had a hand in both. The plant incident was never given a name, but supposedly a being called 'Vortex' was the cause of the bad weather. In both stories, the person who stopped the ghosts was this 'Phantom'. The league didn't investigate because other, genuine, villains were coming forward claiming credit. Amity's ghost stories did, however, attract the attention of the former government paranormal investigation unit – codenamed 'Guys in White'. They were shut down just under a year ago, due to a long record of spectacularly failed missions and generally poor conduct. Massive property damage caused, as well as severe injury to a number of bystanders in one case - which lead to the fatality that ultimately sealed their fate. A few of the higher-ups went private after the incident, and the files were mostly wiped but I did manage to retrieve this."_

 _The Boy Wonder pulled up one of the watermarked files. A pair of images depicted a black-clad, white-haired teen around Robin's own age, apparently glowing and floating in the sky. One showed the boy seemingly on patrol over the town, while in the other he was engaging with a large robotic being, flipping backwards over the creature's head. "Based on the meta-data, these pictures were taken a year and a half ago or thereabouts. I've run them through the normal programs, but there's no evidence of doctoring. Apparently the ghost-boy is legit."_

 _"That has implications of its own. We investigated but…"_

 _"Exactly. The 'ghost king' incident. A whole town doesn't just fall off the radar. Locals and legends claim that an ancient ghost tyrant - 'Pariah Dark' - pulled the town into his own private dimension as the start of some sort of undead invasion. Once again, 'Phantom' saved the day. Naturally, the official story was a lot more routine."_

 _"A local research laboratory, Axion, reported a generator overload in one of their chemical storage compounds." Batman recalled, "It caused an EMP surge that knocked down communications in the town and surrounds while the blast damaged a containment unit and some filter systems. An experimental chemical - Ax915p - contaminated the water supply, and was also released as a vapour. Fortunately harmless, but with apparent psychoactive effects. They were in the process of clean-up when our own team arrived." The Dark Knight's eyes narrowed as he continued. The cover-up, if there was one, was disturbingly elaborate. "The evidence was sound. Our team found trace amounts of chemical in the town water. The generator and facility showed damage reflective of an overload. Zatara personally searched for residual mystic energy and found levels only slightly above average, no indication of a large paranormal event. The ghost stories were attributed to mass hallucination and the town's natural superstition."_

 _"But now?"_

 _"That's a League matter. We will investigate and members of the delegation we sent will be questioned. You have other priorities. 'Phantom' is clearly a person of interest. If he lives in Amity-"_

 _"That's part of the problem Bats. 'The Phantom' isn't in Amity Park anymore. According to the stories, he disappeared last year, after a series of disasters damaged the local school and levelled the home and business of the town's most prominent ghost researchers-come-hunters. Reports of ghost attacks dropped off around that time too. Some people think he was sent to guard the town in its time of need, or as a warning of the coming catastrophes. Others claim he went home – or back to wherever ghosts come from. We have no idea where he is."_

 _"Perhaps you do." A light had flickered into being on the smaller screen. Robin nearly went weak with relief. Finally, a lead among the legends. He grinned at his mentor._

 _Batman looked up at the newly active tracer beacon with the barest hint of amusement. "It seems we have a ghost in the machine."_

* * *

 **I had this chapter basically prepped and ready so I thought I'd upload it now. Thank you to all the people who have reviewed and favourited so far - I'm super happy to have such a positive reception!**

 **Unfortunately I'm not satisfied with the early drafts for a lot of future chapters, and my study workload is getting pretty heavy, so please don't get mad if I don't update again for a while. I promise, promise, promise I will keep going at this, but I also have duties in the land of the living. Try to stay whelmed**

 **See you soon**

 **-3WD**


	7. Chapter 6: Brave Faces

**Chapter 6: Brave Faces**

Danny ran his hand through overlong black hair, scrubbing wearily at his eyes as he walked to the back of the storage unit that had been 'home' for the last 10 days. 10 days… he'd have to move on soon, it was risky to stay more than 2 weeks in any one place. Dusk was falling over the city outside. At this point he'd usually be preparing for a night's patrol, waiting until the shadows were deepest before setting out invisibly to scour the town for danger, any clues about his pursuers. But tonight…

Exhaustion seeped into his bones, casting a grey veil over the world. He was well-acquainted with the feeling; constant tiredness was a natural consequence of nine months of running. Tonight though, it was different. It all felt _wrong_ , off-kilter somehow. The shadows were darker, the bite of the air colder. The world was a vast, unfamiliar place and he was facing it alone.

He wished Cujo was still there. The tiny green guard dog had dug his way out of the Zone within a day of settling into his current hiding place. The pup's hyperactive, happy presence had been a major concern - it was difficult enough to keep hidden on his own - but the sheer fact that someone was waiting for him 'at home' had been an immeasurable comfort. Entertaining his playful companion was a welcome distraction from the dark clouds that had been building since his encounter with Spectra and the junior Leaguers. He regretted having to send the puppy back to the other side, but the risk of discovery was too high and Danny couldn't bear the idea of his small friend being hurt or captured.

Now he was alone again, and the silence was deafening. For three months he had managed it, operating almost on autopilot, staying hidden, chasing down new leads. But life kept building and building, and sooner or later it had to come crashing down. That was why he had sent Danielle away. No matter how he tried, he couldn't keep being strong, couldn't keep putting on the same brave face he had managed before the accident. ' _Jazz, Tucker,_ _Sam_ _…'_ even though they were on the run the five of them had been _together_ , one team, one _family_. Unstoppable.

Unbreakable.

 _'_ _Why did they have to be on that train?'_

Hopefully Dani was safely in the Far Frozen with Frostbite by now. He couldn't protect his cousin anymore, not on his own. Couldn't keep her safe, couldn't provide for her properly… definitely couldn't stand the thought of making her worry. She deserved better than that. The polar ghosts would take care of her, train her, keep her happy.

The half-ghost settled in the corner of the bunker, draping a blanket loosely around his shoulders. He had an ice-core, but it was January and the floor of the storage locker was cold. He leaned into the wall, drawing up his knees as he tried to shut out the memories that had been whispering to him since the fight.

 _His Dad's booming victory cry and Mom's gentle laugh echoed in his ears. His sister's fingers reached out to tweak his nose. His shoulder twitched from a playful shove, best friend's eyes flashing wickedly behind his glasses. Sam's hand gently folded around his in a rare show of comfort. His heart ached under the weight of questions unanswered and words left unsaid._

Alone in the darkness, far from everything he held dear, for the first time in many months Danny Fenton allowed himself to cry.

* * *

 **Short chapter, I know. And less time between posts than I thought.**

 **But I'm past the exam and I'm finally happy with the outline of next chapter.  
(I try not to post a chapter until I have a good plan for the how the chapter after it will go. Helps with continuity)**

 **Reviews are always welcome! And they motivate me to write more and post more often so...  
**

 **See you in the next update**

 **-3WD**


	8. Chapter 7: Expectations

**Chapter 7: Expectations**

The tracker hadn't come online.

The Gotham duo crept silently through the storage facility, an undercurrent of tension lending urgency to their calculated movements. The beacon had been online _every_ night since they had picked it up. Suddenly the pattern had changed. And, while neither would admit it, the change made the pair _very_ anxious. It was too similar to the time directly after Robin planted the tracer. The signal had skipped over cities before activating. The same thing could be happening now. It could have _already_ _happened_. They might lose their lead.

Which meant it was time for another approach. The dark-haired boy was now their primary focus. His nightly wanderings always brought him back to the locker business.

9… 8… 7… the duo counted down the numbers on the storage vaults as they approached their target. They had hacked the company's flimsy network the night before. One of the larger lockups had been hired out just over a week ago. By a 'Damien John Ferguson' who, according to the ID on file, was 18. Robin had his doubts about that last part. The photo on the licence showed a young man with raven hair and solemn blue eyes. Possible match.

They had reached unit 4. Robin smirked. Deliberate or not, the Chinese number for death seemed a fitting place to end the ghost chase. Batman was already working on the lock, picks in hand as he teased the tumblers into alignment. The Boy Wonder drew a small canister from his belt, spraying lubricant along the tracks of the door. The last thing they needed was for a squeaky joint to give the game away. He activated the holo-screen of his computer, calling up the thermal scanner. Three signatures. Him, Bats and one other. Looks like their mystery man was inside… _'weird - his reading is way low, even with the door blocking the signal'_. Acting in unison teen and mentor lifted the door and slipped in quietly, closing the entrance behind them.

It was dark. The lockers had no internal lights and – were it not for the faint sounds of the city – the blackness could have passed for the void. Robin pulled out a light stick, twisting the top to activate the mechanism. A dim glow slowly began to fill the bunker. As it brightened, the Boy Wonder half-expected to see a chemical lab, computer banks, even a séance room – something befitting a secretive 'haunt'. Clearly he'd been spending too much time at the cave. The light finally reached the back corner. Robin paused, allowing himself to process the scene. Whatever he'd expected, it wasn't this.

* * *

The bunker was largely empty, the glow from Robin's lamp highlighting the starkness of bare walls and cold concrete floor. Two dark bundles lay at the far back. The pair stepped forward, stopping as the contents came sharply into focus. A traveller's backpack leaned against the wall near the centre, a black sports bag lying open beside it. A faded sweater peeked through the zip, along with a large bottle of water and what looked like the remains of a loaf of bread. A few smaller bottles had tumbled out to lie on the ground nearby. But it was the other shape that commanded the duo's attention.

It was the boy. Slumped in the corner and obviously asleep, a ragged blanket hanging from his shoulders. Robin eyed the blanket with concern; even in his insulated suit he could feel the chill radiating from the ground. The deep hood had been pulled back, revealing his face for the first time. Neither of the duo were happy with that they saw.

The teen's clothes were clean but in need of repairs - ill-fitting and rough in places, verging on worn through in others. His blue jeans were too long for him, hanging down onto faded, peeling, red-and-white sneakers. The arm that poked from his sleeve was hard-muscled but bony. Not starved, but nowhere near healthy. The white shirt and ever-present red hoodie hung on his slim frame in a way that Batman did not like.

A mop of shaggy black hair fell across the boy's face and into his eyes. The eyes themselves were closed but deeply shadowed, hung with tired circles and webs of lines that spread outwards from the corners. His cheeks had the pinched, slightly hollowed look that came with a growth spurt, a lack of food, or both. He hugged himself slightly as he slept, curling loosely as though to hide from the world. Silver tracks ran down his face, reflected in the light from Robin's hand.

He was crying.

The sight of the thin figure in the corner set something aching deep in the Boy Wonder's chest. Glancing at his mentor Robin knew that, beneath the Batman's trademark impassivity, Bruce felt the same. He frowned as the desire for answers fought with the beginnings of shame – what place did they have, disturbing any small peace this person had found? He sighed internally. Regardless of how they might feel, a possible lead on 'the Phantom' was too important to overlook. Sharing a brief look and a nod the dynamic duo slowly and quietly advanced towards the boy.

* * *

Something had woken him. Danny wasn't sure what or why. It could be nothing, just the end of another nightmare. Or it could be everything. He hadn't bothered to open his eyes but by habit born of months of running he was alert, listening, feeling, wary of the possibility of a threat.

Silence…no, not quite. Breathing, heartbeats, quiet footsteps. He tensed minutely. Something, some _one_ was in the locker with him. Two people. Definitely human… or at least mortal, partially. Ghosts didn't have heartbeats. Definitely two people. One smaller than the other by the sound. Too quiet, too purposeful to be lost, too professional for a common thief. Getting closer. _Hunters?_

Only one real way to find out.

Danny pushed himself upright, springing into a crude defensive stance, eyes scouring the storage unit, ready to run, fight, hide, to _escape_. The intruders had frozen as he moved, standing like statues in the gloom. The smaller one was holding what looked to be a souped-up glow-stick, gently illuminating the corner of the bunker. He seemed young; Danny's age, maybe a few years below. Messy dark hair, a black and white domino mask, red and black short-sleeved jumpsuit, black gloves, black and yellow half-cape... ' _No way'_. A glance to the older man confirmed what the half-ghost already knew. Black and grey combat suit, full-length dark cape, face hidden beneath a cowl adorned with small, horn-like ears. Danny swallowed, eyes widening. The _Batman_ and _Robin_. _Were here._ In his lockup.


	9. Chapter 8: Questions

**Chapter 8: Questions**

Robin blinked in surprise. They were supposed to be silent. _He_ could barely hear Batman at his shoulder. They had trained that way. To be deathly quiet - or as close to it as humanly possible. Even with the sharpest ears a normal person shouldn't notice their approach until they were only a few feet out. But somehow this boy had sensed them, rolling upright and into a semi-defensive position when they were barely halfway towards him.

His immediate thought was that the kid was a fighter. It was there in the way he bladed his feet, the bend to his knees, the balance of his weight. In the angle of his neck, the slant to his hands, his stance – tight but loose-jointed, light footed, ready to move at speed. There was a martial flavour to it; probably self-taught, but with some training too. Robin didn't doubt that the teen could pack a punch. This was a seasoned opponent.

The boy's eyes told a similar story. They were blue. Light crystalline blue, cautious and hardened. Calculating, measuring. Suspicious. Far too old for the face that held them.

Robin watched the eyes sweep the locker, taking in corners and angles before settling onto him. They lingered, travelling from his face to his hands, feet, knees, elbows, shoulders… in that moment the Boy Wonder knew he'd been assessed as a threat. Recognition flickered in the blue and they widened, jumping from protégé to mentor. The teen swallowed visibly, rocking back onto his heels as hostility left the fighter's stance. Confusion and anxiety touched his face as he surveyed the intruders in his home.

A painfully expectant silence gathered in the hold.

"Damien Ferguson?" The Dark Knight's low baritone seemed to ground the boy. He gave a slow stiff nod, straightening as he relaxed out of his defensive crouch. Or rather, he _appeared_ to relax. His feet and eyes betrayed him.

"You live here?" An obvious question given the duo's nights of observation. But it was somewhere to begin. Damien shook his head.

"No. I just crash here sometimes. When I need some space." Which could have been convincing if not for the overwhelming evidence to the contrary. A person didn't keep food, water and blankets in an otherwise empty locker if they had somewhere better to go. This was 'home', Batman concluded. The teen was a runaway. Had been for some time if his stance and the state of his clothes were anything to judge by. The Dark Knight frowned beneath the cowl. He had never been comfortable seeing youth on the streets, but now wasn't the time or place for sentimentality. The boy was a potential witness on a case.

Robin had noticed something else. There was something familiar about the way he spoke. The teen's accent was clearly American, but lacked the characteristic drawls or twangs that would point to a specific region. Almost generic – possibly from the Midwest or Great Lakes. The Boy Wonder hadn't been in much of a position to remember, but it sounded remarkably similar to 'the Phantom's'. Maybe they came from the same place. Either way it was clear that the kid hadn't been raised on the west coast.

"Where are you from?" He wondered. Damien seemed vaguely surprised at the question.

"Not really from anywhere. My family…" the teens' voice dropped slightly, "we travel a lot." He raised a hand to his face. Embarrassment flickered across his expression as he rubbed dried tear marks away, tucking fists quickly into his pockets.

The duo frowned at the evasive answer. The boy was obviously skittish about his personal information. If the information was real at all. Batman strongly suspected the identification used to rent the locker was false. After all, 'Damien Ferguson' had been practically non-existent until a few months earlier. The quality of the photographs was almost deliberately poor – just enough to avoid facial recognition. And then there was the teen himself. The boy was definitely not a legal adult, regardless of the date on the license. Even the name was doubtful. People react a certain way to hearing their names and 'Damien's' was ever so slightly off. It had been there in those eyes, fast enough that anyone else would have missed it. _Relief_. The boy believed his real identity was safe. Which presented an unusual dilemma. Everyone had secrets – the duo knew that better than most. And to some extent people had right to privacy. But this teen might be the key to finding 'the Phantom'. Privacy wasn't a luxury they could afford.

"Who are you? Really." The boy's eyes hardened momentarily, shoulders tightening. Then he shrugged.

"Damien Ferguson. You already know that." He wasn't a bad actor, Robin conceded. But it was all a bit too _chalant_ to be honest.

"That's not your name," Batman interjected firmly, "or your age. You're not eighteen"

For a moment the boy looked as though he would deny it. He tensed, eyes roving from mentor to protégé, searching their faces. "Does it matter?"

"Is there a reason why you're hiding it?"

'Damien' hesitated, seemingly debating something. "It's easier this way," he muttered.

Robin raised an eyebrow. "Easier to do what?"

The teen glanced at him, registering the thinly veiled accusation. "Nothing illegal, I swear. It's just safer to keep to myself." He cleared his throat, looking down.

 _'_ _Safer…_ ' Batman considered the statement, pieces slowly falling into place. 'Damien' was jumpy, afraid to let people close. He had money but he chose somewhere low-profile to stay. Somewhere a normal person wouldn't think to look. He wandered at night, easy to lose and difficult to follow. The Dark Knight's eyes returned to the small bottles lying beside the sports bag. Vitamin supplements. The boy was keeping himself in shape, a fighter…

"Who are you running from?"

'Damien' almost twitched at the question. Eyes widened faintly, alarm flickering in the blue. Robin thought he saw a faint flash of green, gone almost before he noticed it.

"I'm not running," he replied quickly. Too quickly.

Batman stepped through the lie, getting straight to the point. "You use a false name. You're staying somewhere no one would think to look. You don't trust others, watch all the corners of a room and are ready for a fight. Someone's chasing you. _Who?_ "

The teen paused, fidgeting slightly under the weight of the duo's stares. He hesitated again, shutters closing behind the eyes as he appraised the Dark Knight. His jaw clenched, gaze flickering around the room. "Nobody good," he admitted, "but I'm guessing that's not why you're here. What did you want?"

Something told the duo that pressing for answers wouldn't make the boy any more willing to talk about 'the Phantom'. But there were a few too many things out of place for them to simply let it pass.

"I want to know how old you really are. Then we'll talk."

'Damien's' gaze sharpened. He evaluated the duo before relenting with a short, testy sigh. "Fine… Fifteen. Sixteen in a few months." Robin's brows crept upwards. He hadn't expected the boy to be so young. The detective wondered what 'Damien' had seen in his life. Then again, it was probably better that he didn't know.

Batman nodded. He reached into his cloak, withdrawing one of the government watermarked photographs.

"We're looking for someone." The Dark Knight stepped forward, ignoring the teen's sudden stiffness, as he held out the picture. "Phantom."

The reaction was instantaneous. The muscles in 'Damien's' neck tightened. His breath seemed to catch minutely, eyes flashing with a strange mix of fear and panic. For an instant Robin thought he caught the same flicker of green. Less than a second passed before teen was back in control, reaching out to take the paper as though nothing had happened. He frowned as he studied the image, apparently lost in thought.

"You know him." The boy's response hadn't gone unnoticed. 'Damien' nodded distractedly, gaze fixed on the paper.

"I know _of_ him," the teen looked up, eyes guarded. "He's _meant_ to be a myth." Robin thought he heard a faint note of warning behind the words. A caution. He pressed on.

"What do you know?"

"Same as most people I guess," 'Damien' shrugged, "The ghost-kid from… Illinois? Amityville or something. Protector-of-the-town and all that." Robin doubted that was all the teen knew. Why else would he have reacted to 'Phantom's' name?

"How do you know that?"

"One of my friends i-" he stumbled briefly, voice slightly tighter, " _was_ , a goth. Loved dark stuff. I've heard a lot of ghost stories."

Batman's eyes narrowed. He wasn't telling them the truth. Parts of what he said were real – the Dark Knight didn't doubt that 'Damien' had a gothic friend – but it sounded ever so slightly false. The pausing. The way he said 'Amity _ville_ ' instead of 'Amity _Park_ '. The teen knew the answers, but was trying to seem like he didn't.

"'Phantom' is _not_ a myth. And you know a lot more than just stories." Batman allowed the full weight of authority to ring in his voice. "Start talking."

'Damien' bristled at the change in tone, expression cooling. "No one believes in ghosts." Again Robin heard the faint warning. He thought about the teen's reaction to the name. The constant attempts to keep the undead mythical. The way 'Damien' only appeared when 'Phantom' was absent…

"Is 'Phantom' the one chasing you?" The Boy Wonder doubted it, but he wanted to test a theory.

"No." This time 'Damien's' response was genuine. The boy's lip twitched unwillingly, a faint gleam barely touching his eyes. Robin got the feeling that they were missing some internal joke. He bit back a grin of his own. This kid definitely knew something.

"Is Phantom running _with_ you?" He stressed. The teen shot the young hero a quizzical glance, one that made it clear he thought the Boy Wonder insane. But it wasn't a denial. Something neither Bat nor Bird missed.

"He's your partner." Batman concluded. 'Damien' looked down, a slightly bitter expression twisting his face. Robin allowed a small victorious smile to break through the mask. ' _Finally._ '

"You work with him," pressed the elder hero. The teen continued to avoid their eyes, biting his lip before letting out a resigned sigh.

"Wouldn't exactly put it that way…" Still evasive. But at least they had a chance at some real answers. The young detective seized it.

"Last time you saw him?"

'Damien' gave the Boy Wonder a flat look. "I don't ever really _see_ him." Robin struggled not to roll his eyes skyward. Invisibility was 'the Phantom's' gimmick, but he was _not_ going to play that game.

" _When?_ " Neither, apparently, was Batman. The teen withstood the weight of the glare for a full second before relenting.

"Sometime this year." The detective perked up at that. His team had encountered the shadow barely a week after New Year's. 'Damien' could have had contact since.

"Where?"

The teen shrugged, "Around. He travels a lot."

" _Specifically_." Robin could hear Batman's patience thinning. Honestly he was impressed that the boy had lasted this long. Most civilians would have caved.

"West Coast," came the short reply, "he might have moved since." Perhaps it was his imagination, but the Boy Wonder could have sworn 'Damien's' eyes flickered his way. ' _Does he know about what happened with the team?_ '

"You met with him in Portland," he guessed. 'Damien' raised a brow in return. ' _Yeah. He knows._ '

"Where is he now?" The Dark Knight stepped in, regaining control. The teen's face hardened, iron entering the blue eyes. Tension that had eased away during the talk made its return. Sharing information was one thing. Handing over your partner was an entirely different story.

"What makes you think I know?"

"You're his partner," Robin reasoned, "You have to keep in contact."

'Damien' shook his head. "Not how it works." He eyed the duo suspiciously. "What do you want with Phantom anyway?"

"We need information."

"What _kind_ of information?" There was something almost accusatory in the teen's question.

"We'd prefer to discuss that with 'Phantom' directly."

"Sorry," 'Damien's' voice was like ice, "Can't help you."

"Can't?" Robin couldn't entirely help the cool edge that bled into his own tone, "or _won't?_ "

"Whichever," he responded testily, "I'm not giving you anything unless I know why."

"Why are you so determined to protect him?"

"There's a lot of people who'd rather some _ghosts_ stayed buried," the teen gave a barely noticeable shudder, "and more who want live test subjects." Robin cringed internally at the last. Supposedly dead or not, 'Phantom' was still a person. The reluctance to talk suddenly made a lot more sense.

"The government's paranormal investigation unit has been shut down," the Dark Knight attempted to diffuse the tension. "The ecto-acts passed by the division have since been repealed. 'Phantom's' _status_ isn't a cause for prosecution. Not anymore."

"Maybe on paper," the boy hadn't relaxed, "But the people didn't just disappear with the division. They're still there. And ghost-hating isn't exclusive to the Idiots in White."

"If 'Phantom' is in danger, then you need to tell us. We can help," Robin offered. "The League has put people under protection before." 'Damien' shook his head, unconvinced.

"The League works under a charter," he pointed out. "You only get to be here so long as the Feds let you. I don't trust the government." The teen paused. " 'sides," he mumbled quietly, "they were the easy ones…"

 _'_ _Easy?'_

"What do you mean by that?" A vaguely guilty look flashed in 'Damien's' eyes.

"Nothing."

Robin frowned, glancing sideways at his mentor. If the teen was being honest, 'Phantom' was in a lot of danger. The ghost obviously had more enemies than he could cope with. The Boy Wonder appraised the person in front of him. He doubted such people would go easy on a human if they found out that 'Damien' had information. Even if he wasn't in contact, association would put the boy squarely in their sites. No wonder he was running.

"We may be able to stop the people hunting you," Batman opened negotiations, "But only if you give us information." Hope flickered briefly across teen's expression before dying. The light in the blue eyes dimmed.

"It's not your problem," he replied quietly. 'Damien' frowned, expression hardening as he changed tack. "Look, is Phantom under arrest or something? Do you think he's involved in a crime?"

Robin shook his head, hoping to reassure the teen. The other boy's jaw tightened.

"Then I don't have to tell you anything." His tone was one of absolute finality. The Boy Wonder mentally kicked himself. This could _not_ be happening.

"We just want to talk." He allowed his voice to soften slightly, hoping to bring the teen back on side. 'Damien's' eyes narrowed.

"Heard that one before. And no. So long as there's no broken law I'm not obliged to tell you." Robin groaned internally. They couldn't lose this now. Not when they were so close. He counted as he exhaled, voice determinedly calm.

"We want to help. But you need to help us first."

'Damien' shook his head firmly. "We don't want _or need_ help. The best thing you – or anyone – can do is leave us _alone._ "

Batman took charge. "That's not going to happen. We need the information. And we'd prefer that you co-operate."

"And if I don't?"

"You've committed forgery. And it's technically illegal to sleep here."

The teen glared at him, fury and desperation mingling in the gaze. "You'll put me into the system? Give me to the people who want to rip us apart 'molecule by molecule'? They want me gone. _Permanently_." The boy made a sound halfway between a sigh and a growl, running a hand through his hair. His voice dropped to nearly a whisper, "A year... I've spent almost a year keeping away from these guys and you want to dump me in their lap."

The revelation gave them pause. A year was a long time when you were fifteen. A very young age to be in such serious trouble. Not that youth automatically made you innocent. Robin and his team had definitely managed worse. But false license aside, 'Damien' wasn't a criminal. If anything he was the victim. And 'Phantom' had saved them. The idea of an arrest didn't sit well.

" _League_ custody or League protection," it was a generous offer, especially from the Bat, "Your choice. But only one keeps you free."

"Or you can talk now," the Boy Wonder added, "and we'll let you go, no questions asked."

The teen scowled in return. The young detective could sense him coming to a decision, and he knew it wasn't one they would like.

"Look," Robin entreated, "we're _not_ here to fight. Phantom got me and my team out of trouble and I'd kinda like to return the favour. His information could help us keep other people safe. And we can help you. But _only_ if you let us."

'Damien' met his gaze, unmoved. Tension crystallised in the room, showing its teeth as resolve turned the blue eyes to stone. The boy's jaw was firm with determination. In other circumstances it would have been impressive. But right now… a vague sickness gathered in the Boy Wonder's stomach. He could feel the doors closing, keys turning in the locks. They'd lost, he realised. The teen wasn't going to talk, not willingly. It was out of their control and only going to get worse.

Robin clenched his hands, waiting for the inevitable 'no'.

* * *

 **For the record, Batman is a _very_ hard character to write. Actually this whole chapter was hard, so I'd really appreciate constructive criticism. Was everyone in character? Did Bats and Rob unintentionally end up playing good-cop-bad-cop? (the answer to the last one is yes by the way) Let me know what you think.**

 **Also, I am an Aussie who has never visited the US, so I deeply apologise if I butchered the description of the Midwest accent. I did try to do my research before writing that part, but one can only get so far.**

 **Unfortunately I'm also drawing near to the end of my pre-drafted chapters - I only have one and a half still roughed out. I'm not evil enough leave you on a cliffy for months so I will try to get the next one tweaked and up within the fortnight. After that I may have to fall off the radar for a while to plan. (Also I'm barely a month out from major uni submissions so things are _hectic_ right now). Bear with me please, I shall return.**

 **Please review!  
See you in the next chapter**

 **-3WD**


	10. Chapter 9: Interference

**Chapter 9: Interference**

Danny opened his mouth to answer the heroes. Maybe they did 'just want to help' but it wasn't a risk worth taking. Whatever the consequences of refusal, it was still better than what would happen if _they_ caught him. At least the dynamic duo had morals. There were lines that no hero would cross.

A cold, heavy weight settled against his chest. He knew what he had to do. The heroes stood ready, silent and utterly still, costumes blending into the shadows as they waited for his reply. Unmoving – not even the billowing capes stirred. Almost as if they were…

 _'_ _Frozen?'_

He reached up to his neck, hand encountering the smooth metal of a familiar medallion.

"Hello Daniel."

"I thought you weren't meant to interfere?"

The purple spectre nodded, red eyes kind. "Correct. I'm not. But I would give some advice."

The halfa gave the spirit a tired look, cool edge not entirely leaving his voice. "No games this time Clockwork. I can't handle that right now."

The ghost gestured towards the duo. "This is a valuable opportunity."

Danny narrowed his eyes. He had a sneaking suspicion where this was going. Not that he didn't trust the time master's judgment, but after everything that had happened…

The spirit watched him intently. "The decision you make tonight could have far-reaching consequences. Do not squander it rashly."

The young ghost shook his head. Any advice was good advice compared to what he'd managed in the last few months. But riddles had to come at the worst possible moments.

"You cannot help but be human." The statement was probably meant to be kind.

" _Half_ human," Danny shot back, unintentionally petulant. After all the problems his 'status' had caused he wasn't going to see it glossed over that easily.

"And that is the half that matters," came the even reply. "Far more than ghosts, humans are social creatures. They need companionship, friends. They are meant to trust." The spectre gave him a pointed look, "You've already seen what isolation does to your kind."

"No." The halfling fought off the urge to growl. Plasmius was a neurotic psychopath, having friends _wouldn't_ have changed that. The situation was entirely different. Danny wasn't running for his life because he felt like it. He was in danger. Any person who came _near_ him was in danger. He couldn't afford the chance. Not after what had happened to… no. He wasn't going to go there.

A slight frown touched the time master's expression. "You put on a brave face, but you are no Atlas. You can't carry the world on your own Daniel. Nor are you expected to."

"I'm _fine._ "

"The last three months would suggest otherwise."

Danny flinched slightly. The statement hit a little too close for comfort. Try though he might the halfa could feel the cracks spreading. He was just so tired of it all. Tired of lonely nights. Tired of silence. Tired of being hungry and cold and scared all the time. Part of him desperately wanted somebody to step in, to take the load. But that wasn't how it worked. This was his mess. He couldn't just shove it off onto someone else because he wasn't up to the challenge.

"It's my problem. I'll deal with it."

"Indeed you will. But you don't need to do so alone. Many hands make light work," the spirit glanced at the frozen heroes, "and they have offered. You would not be forcing them."

The half-ghost was already shaking his head.

"Like it or not, you are part of a larger world. Running can only prolong the inevitable."

"What do you want me to do?" Danny asked dejectedly. His vision flickered for a moment, adrenaline fading fast. He swayed, too tired to be bothered hiding it.

"Your choice must be your own. But consider a little faith. Trust can be a valuable thing. And you are certainly not the only one who would benefit from a friend."

 _Trust_. The halfling ran a hand through his hair, pinching the bridge of his nose. Of all the things to ask for. Secrets were a fundamental part of life; they had been ever since the portal opened. Get up, go to school, do your homework, patrol the town, _keep the_ _secret_. Even when everything had fallen apart and they'd started running, the secret had remained. One of life's constants. He'd _never_ told anyone. _'Not even Mom and Dad.'_ To let go of it now…

"You're sure about this?"

The ghost nodded calmly. "I cannot blame you for being cautious. Not after everything you've seen. But good still exists in the world. Allow yourself to trust - a second chance, as it were."

Danny chewed on his lower lip, rubbing the back of his neck in attempt to still his trembling hands. Could he? After all this time, was it worth trusting someone? He couldn't deny that he wanted to. But nine months of experience made a convincing case for the negative. And they were members of the _Justice League_. Whether that made it worse or better he didn't know. Danny sighed. It was time to face facts. He was tired of running, and it wasn't getting him anywhere anyway. He examined the duo carefully, studying the frozen faces. They said they wanted to help. Could that be true? He still wasn't sure. Then again, he didn't have to throw down all his cards right away. He could take it slowly, make absolutely certain... Maybe it would be worth it. He'd always believed in the benefit of the doubt. Everybody needed a second chance.

 _'_ _Everybody…'_ A question throbbed through his heart. No. He knew better than to ask. No matter what the answer was the outcome wouldn't change. He wasn't ready to accept that, not yet.

"You have a question." It was pointless really, trying to hide things from someone who knew everything. Danny's eyes prickled. Memories hung in the air.

 _Laughter. Loyalty. Homework done late at night, the smell of tofu and greasy takeout. Analysis from behind a thick textbook._

"If everyone deserves a second chance," he whispered, "why didn't they get theirs?"

Regret flickered in the ancient eyes. "The universe must unfold as it should… much though we wish it otherwise." The spirit sighed, remorse touching the usually impassive tone, "It was not my place to act."

Reluctant though he was, the halfa understood. Clockwork was powerful but even a master of time was bound by rules. No matter how much he might want to, he _couldn't_ intervene. Not unless the world was in danger. The smallest change could send the future in an entirely different direction – the ecto-acne incident had showed Danny that firsthand.

All was as it should be. But that didn't mean he could like it.

The ghost had returned to watching the heroes. Danny took the opportunity to wipe his face, banishing a few rebellious tears. He nodded, letting the cool mask settle back into place, hoping the simple gesture conveyed everything he wanted to say. The purple spectre turned to face his charge, favouring the boy with a rare smile.

"Now I believe your friends are waiting for an answer."

A hand touched Danny's shoulder before the medallion was lifted from his neck.

* * *

"Okay."

Robin struggled not to gape. He was so convinced that they'd be turned down. The Boy Wonder had been prepared for hours of conflict to reach even the smallest glimpse of an answer. Suddenly all the fight seemed to have left the older boy. He was still wary, eyes still hard, but the seasoned warrior had vanished, replaced by someone tired. Maybe a little lonely. Maybe even a little scared. 'Damien' blinked, shifting slightly as he watched the duo. The difference was disarming – Robin could believe this person was only fifteen. But what had made him change his mind?

"You'll talk?" Batman recovered quickly, taking command of the situation.

The teen hesitated. He swallowed visibly, eyeing the heroes with unease. "Not tonight. I will, I promise… but not tonight. I have some… things to sort out first. I'll be here for a couple more days at least."

The Dark Knight's eyes narrowed. The boy _seemed_ sincere, but after the way he had been…

"How do we know you'll stay?"

'Damien' ducked his head slightly, shamefaced. He peeked at the vigilante from beneath heavy lids. "I guess you don't," he admitted, "but I don't break promises."

The Boy Wonder raised an eyebrow, torn between the urge to smile and the desire to frown. Less than a minute ago they had been facing someone hardened, jaded and defiant. The person in front of them now seemed earnest, almost meek. _'Talk about one-eighties'_. Not that Robin was going to complain. Given how things had been going this was probably the best possible outcome. But a normal person didn't – _couldn't_ – change so completely in such a short time. One more thing to ask about if they got the chance. And speaking of asking…

"Will you tell us your real name?"

He got the sense that the teen was genuinely considering it. 'Damien's' mouth pulled into a contemplative frown.

"Maybe later." Well at least it wasn't an outright refusal.

Further questioning was halted by a near-imperceptible vibration from the timepiece in Robin's glove. The Boy Wonder made a tiny gesture by his side, receiving the smallest of nods from his mentor. Morning was on the way. The night would soon be over, and they had appearances to maintain. Which meant they had to make a choice. They could take the boy at his word or bring him with them. It was difficult. There was no guarantee that the teen wouldn't disappear if they left him alone. On the other hand, forcing him into custody could destroy any chance of cooperation. In the end it was Batman who decided.

"Tomorrow night. Same place. Same time." It wasn't a request.

"I'll be here."

The Dark Knight examined the boy carefully, studying his body language. Relieved, but truthful – he meant what he said. Batman turned over a final question in his mind. He already suspected the answer, but for the sake of professionalism he needed to ask.

"Do your parents know where you are?"

The teen watched him for what felt like the longest time. Cracks spread through the tense blue, pain fluttering on broken wings as 'Damien' looked away. Bruce paused, struck for the first time by how much the boy resembled his young ward. The teen slowly shook his head, avoiding the eyes of the duo. The silence told them all they needed to know.

"Tomorrow," Batman reaffirmed, unable to entirely help the faint softening of his tone.

"I know. I promised."

Robin sent the teen a sympathetic look before following his mentor out of the locker.

* * *

 **Thank you for all the awesome reviews on the last chapter! It made my whole weekend.**

 **Since you've all been so nice I thought I'd try to get this one to you sooner. Hopefully it leaves you on enough of an ending for now.**

 **Once again, I would very much appreciate reviews. Con-crit is always welcome, it helps me keep the story up to standard. Clockwork was fun to write, he has such a distinctive 'voice'. Did you like the way it went? Did it flow properly? Let me know.**

 **Now for some slightly less whelming news: I have to take a break from fanfic to make sure I keep my GPA up. As in a full-on ban until term ends. I'm loving the fun of this story and all the other stories you guys put up but it has been somewhat devouring my life.**

 **I will return in late November but feel free to PM me if you have ideas or questions in the meantime.**

 **As always, see you in next chapter**

 **-3WD**


	11. Chapter 10: Social Commentary

**Chapter 10: Social Commentary**

 _"_ _A 'Ghost Zone'?"_

 _"_ _Basically. It's like the flipside to our world – the human world._ _They live there."_

 _"_ _Another earth?"_

 _"_ _No. It's not like our side at all._ _It's chaotic._ _Has its own laws… and rules._ _Everything's sort of… fluid._ _Things change, move around a lot._ _It's easy to get lost._ _Dangerous if you don't know what you're doing."_

 _"_ _You've been there?"_

 _"…_ _Once or twice. Not a great place for humans."_

 _"_ _So there are ways to pass between them?"_

 _"_ _Not really. There are… natural portals, but there's no way of telling where the next one will open. Or when._ _So you can't really use them for travel."_

 _"_ _But that's not the only way."_

 _"…_ _Yeah. There are others, but they're either really complicated or dangerous or – well, there are a couple of ghosts who can open one, but getting them to work with you…"_

 _"_ _Is that how you started working with 'Phantom'?"_

 _"_ _I… Sort of. It's complicated."_

 _"_ _Then explain."_

 _"_ _I… I can't. At least, not yet."_

* * *

So it had been for the past few nights.

If there was one thing Robin had learned early on it was that every answer usually came with a new question. On this case it was more like every answer came with three.

He looked up briefly, gaze wandering over the smooth stone walls. He was back at the mountain. Lying upside-down over a couch in the rec' room to be precise. Batman's orders – apparently he needed to take a day off. The fact that _the Dark Knight_ was concerned about his social life would usually raise a few warning flags, but in this case the Boy Wonder was more than happy to ignore them. He flicked his fingers, staring at the screen on his wrist as he sorted through the information. It was definitely one of the stranger investigations he had taken on. He wasn't expecting to _not_ be surprised by it anytime soon.

The timestamp on one of the older files caught his attention. Two days. It had been two days since their first encounter with 'Damien' at unit 4. Two days since the tracker went almost permanently offline. Two days since they had exacted a promise that the teen would be there for questioning. Not that their new lead was getting them very far on the main case. 'Phantom' – and by extension 'Damien' himself – remained largely a mystery. But the meetings were proving profitable in other ways. While talk of a _certain_ ghost was off the table for the time being, ghosts in general were not. And after the unmitigated _dis_ aster that had been the 'Spectra' incident Robin was grateful for any information that wasn't third-hand.

Though in some cases ignorance might have been bliss. The idea that the Amity 'ghosts' were genuinely the spirits of the deceased wasn't exactly one he was comfortable with. In their line of work it was easier for the dead to be dead. For it to be over, _the end_. That there could be something more… it raised several personal, philosophical questions that Robin honestly wasn't prepared to deal with just yet. ' _Okay, moving on.'_ Apparently there were categories of spirit. Not all ghosts had originally been alive and humans – or mortals of any description – only came back from beyond in rare circumstances. Something about emotion and obsession, though 'Damien' refused to go into detail. Undeath wasn't absolute. Which was probably a good thing. With an estimated 6.8 billion on Earth alone the afterlife would get very crowded if everyone passed over.

As for the rest of the myths... it quickly became apparent that, while correct on the 'undead' factor, the other details left a lot to be desired. Lucky charms, salt, silver and iron, fire, burial rites... a ghost would be amused at best. Automatically 'lost', 'vengeful' or purely 'evil'? Also a no. Short-tempered at times, and perhaps prone to overreaction, but there was a spectrum; spirits could be anything from benevolent to malevolent, from selfish to altruistic. Naturally the 'ghost hunters' claimed otherwise; but then again, a shoot-first-ask-questions-later approach hardly ever brought out the best in anyone. And having met 'Phantom' – however briefly – Robin was inclined to take 'Damien's' side. Even if the spirit was rumoured to have had his own moments of… _questionable_ behaviour, the idea of a 'good' ghost was comforting. Given how powerful their species was, it was reassuring to know that there were at least a few who wouldn't attack on sight.

 _'Strength, flight, energy blasts, density shifting...'_ the Boy Wonder was grateful that ghosts chose to stay on their own side. A land of the dead – definitely _not_ on his vacation list. The presence of other dimensional planes wasn't a new concept, but it did explain how the spirits had managed to exist for so long without major contact. And given that the portals allowing passage between the two worlds were liable to randomly strand a prospective traveller along the space-time continuum it was easy to see why most ghosts avoided the temptation to holiday in the land of the living. Amity Park was apparently an exception – a supposedly stable gateway used to give free access to both sides. Robin would be lying to say that he wasn't relieved. Close encounters of the dead kind might be less than turbing, but at least the natural rifts couldn't support the kind of trans-dimensional turf wars that had reportedly plagued the town.

He tapped the screen, opening another file. Putting facts to the fiction was good but information on their major target might as well have been six feet under. Stories of 'Phantom' numbered into the hundreds, and while the details were interesting they didn't reveal much of use in tracking the ghost down. 'Damien' was their best chance on all fronts. Unfortunately, the live teen was almost more difficult to investigate than the dead one. _'Why can't I find this guy?'_ 'Phantom' had reportedly worked with humans from time to time but there was no solid evidence for a _partner._ Let alone one who knew ghosts as intimately as their source did.

More typical research methods were also throwing blanks. There'd been no significant matches in the missing persons reports for Amity Park or Illinois State. He'd even taken it as far as nation-wide, but still no result. With so many unknowns and variables it was difficult to find new places to start. Raw observation and speculation could only go so far – he needed details. A real name, a date of birth, even a _hometown..._ somehow the teen had contrived to avoid almost all personal information in the nights of questioning. Not that they'd pressed too hard. _Yet_. Antagonising their only major lead would be the opposite of helpful – especially when the target could quite literally disappear off the face of the earth. Though he might need to re-check the definition of 'cooperation'. If the ghosts weren't enough of a mystery 'Damien' definitely was.

Needless to say both members of the Gotham duo knew how to profile a target. It was a necessity in their line of work. But there was a difference between analysing a criminal and a civilian. Villains had means, motives – they had _endgames_. As for 'Damien's' endgame... well, he wasn't sure. Everything contradicted. On one hand there was the unyielding determination they'd seen on the first night. Then the apparent change of heart, the shift to something more earnest, more compliant. The teen _was_ working with them. Just not in the way they expected. Information was doled out slowly, the answers honest and precise… while at the same time telling them as little as possible. The boy seemed to consciously pull himself back – as though he had intended to say more, but reconsidered at the last minute. They were very carefully talking _around_ the topic of 'Phantom', moving along the edges without ever truly breaching it. The kid could dodge questions with the best of them. No denying that he was cautious. Watching, waiting. Something was expected of them, Robin felt certain of that. There was a missing piece, final card that needed to be brought to the table before the truth could come forward. But _what_? If only he knew-

"Dude!" The exclamation jolted the Boy Wonder out of his thoughts. A flicker of motion caught the corner of his eye. Robin flinched, twisting and swiping to grab the soft, squashy _something_ that came flying at his face. A couch cushion. He pulled it to his chest, narrowing his eyes at the offending individual. Kid Flash glared right back.

"Were you even listening?!" The speedster demanded. He shrugged, hiding his embarrassment with an impish smile. In truth he couldn't remember when Wally started talking. The redhead rolled his eyes, making a gesture of vast exasperation.

"Sheesh Rob', what is with you today? I know that Bats is your mentor and all but you've been doing the brooding thing for _hours_. Lighten up!"

"Someone's not feeling the aster."

Robin flicked his wrist, launching the pillow at Conner. "Hey!" the detective protested, hearing it connect with a satisfying 'puff', "That's my thing!"

"Well sorry," Artemis strolled in, hair damp from the showers, "but someone had to do _your thing_ seeing as how you weren't." She dropped onto the sofa next to the speedster.

"Um, Robin?" the tentative question came from the kitchen. M'gann's red hair appeared behind the bench for a moment before she ducked back down. "Don't take this the wrong way but you haven't really been… _yourself_ lately. Is everything alright?" The scent of vanilla filled the room as a baking tray clinked on the countertop. Wally almost cricked his neck as his head whipped towards the smell, earning a reproving elbow from the blonde.

He ran a hand down his face, reluctantly switching off the screen. "Sorry guys. I'm working on a case and it's driving me _nuts_."

"Really? We could not tell." Robin chuckled sheepishly at the Atlantean's wry comment. Had he honestly been that bad?

"Guys?" Another voice joined the conversation as Zatanna entered from the dorms, "I thought I heard voices. Is something going on?"

"The Boy Wonder's _finally_ decided to join us," Artemis smirked, rolling her eyes at the team's youngest member.

She smiled. "Welcome back."

Robin smiled at the sorceress, feeling more than a little guilty. He hadn't been all that... _there_ since the Portland mission. And after what had happened at New Year he probably should put in a bit more effort. Though whether or not they could actually be considered _together..._ He stretched, ignoring the archer's knowing look as he raised his arms over his head, allowing his hands to rest on the floor.

"Okay, okay. I get it. You win. What's up?"

"The roof?" Wally was still a little sour. The assembled heroes groaned. Superboy threw the cushion at him.

"So," Artemis leaned forward curiously, "what's this case you're on anyway? Mind telling us?"

The Boy Wonder frowned, weighing his options. Batman had some fairly explicit rules about bringing the team onto private missions. But in truth, this wasn't really the Dark Knight's case. _He_ had opened the investigation, had done most of the research… he had brought his mentor on board. And, like it or not, the team was half-involved already. Wally, Kaldur and Artemis had all seen 'the Phantom' with their own eyes. Though, given the redhead's chronic scepticism, it probably wouldn't be a good idea to bring up the more 'ghostly' elements of the story.

"We're… having some trouble with an informant."

"So?" Kid Flash seemed amused by the idea, "Throw in a couple of glares and hang him off a roof as usual. Problem solved."

Robin snorted, rolling his eyes. Wally was _never_ going to let him live that down. "He's a _civilian_ KF. Besides..." he trailed off with a frustrated sigh. The case felt impossible at times, even for him.

"A civilian?" M'gann joined her friends in the lounge, bringing a fresh batch of cookies with her. "That's..."

"...Weird," Artemis finished, snagging a sweet as the plate passed by. She held it teasingly out of the speedster's reach. "So, what's going on?"

Robin adjusted his glasses, stalling for time. It was difficult enough to explain the teen for himself, and that was _after_ spending two nights in a locker with the kid. Describing the situation to someone else – even Bats might find it a challenge. The detective mentally catalogued the information, shifting on the chair until he was seated sideways.

"Batman and I are trying to track someone down. We've found a guy who might have a lead – a connection – to the person we're after but…"

"He doesn't want to talk to you?" Zatanna guessed. He shook his head.

"See, that's the thing. I think he _wants_ to but he just _won't_ for some reason. He's already agreed to help."

"I'm not getting it." The Boy Wonder couldn't help but privately share the young clone's sentiment.

"Could be a diversion," offered the archer. "You know, stall you long enough to tip the other guy off?"

"I thought about that, but I don't _think_ so..."

"Oh?" the Martian tilted her head, "Why not?"

"We've been talking to him for days and the other guy's great at disappearing acts." That was putting it mildly. He was _still_ trying to figure out how a ghost could disable the tracer. "If he was going to skip town he would have done it by now. And like I said, it feels like he wants to talk – something's just getting in the way."

"Perhaps he fears retribution?" Kaldur suggested, "Traitors are not well-accepted in most circles." It was a reasonable conclusion. But 'Damien' clearly saw 'Phantom' as a comrade, a friend rather than a master.

"That's not it either. He's _protecting_ the other guy, not afraid of him."

"Protecting?" It was Wally's turn to be confused. "From what? Wait… just how bad is the other guy?"

"He's not."

"Okay dude, you've lost me."

"He's not a criminal." The detective attempted to explain, "He's... I don't know, on our side I guess. But he's in hiding."

"And you're after him because...?" The redhead's eyebrow rose to meet his fringe.

"Information. He knows something important."

"But then," M'gann's face pulled into a concerned frown, "why's your... _informant_ protecting him? I'm mean, if I was in trouble the League would be the first people I'd go to. They're the good guys. We're the good guys." Robin let out a tired sigh, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, I know. It's like he's waiting for something but I don't know what. We've offered protection, information – I'm drawing blanks here."

Zatanna rubbed at her neck, "Maybe you need a fresh set of eyes on this?" The Boy Wonder reluctantly shook his head. Another perspective would definitely be nice, but he doubted 'Damien' would tolerate more new faces.

"Thanks for the offer, but no. Bats and I can barely get near him as is. He'd bolt if we brought in someone else."

"We could always help from here," Miss Martian gently pointed out, "Can you tell us about him?" She hesitated, "If that's okay?"

"It's complicated..." he paused, trying to sum up the situation in a way that made sense, "It's like he's taking note of everything we say... _evaluating_ all of our questions, all our answers. Half the time we'll ask something and get a question back instead. Once he knows why we want the information and what we're doing with it he's usually fine, but he's definitely avoiding something. He keeps _editing,_ telling half-truths. Knows a whole lot more than he's letting on. Not just about his partner – whatever it is, it's big. He tries to hide it but I see flashes sometimes, or it's like we're missing some inside joke." Robin made a frustrated gesture, "I don't know... it feels like he's playing a game, leaving hints. He wants something from us, needs us to bring whatever it is before he can talk, but he never asks for anything. I can't figure out what else we have to bargain with."

"Sounds like the Riddler's got competition," Wally noted, words somewhat muffled by a mouthful of shortbread. Artemis rolled her eyes again, 'reminding' the speedster of his manners as she rescued the plate from his grasp.

"Are you sure you're not overthinking this?" M'gann toyed with her hair as she thought, "I mean, it doesn't really sound like he's trying to negotiate. Maybe he's just trying to get a feel for you – find out if he can work with you?"

Kaldur nodded his agreement, "He may simply be assessing whether you are people his _friend_ would be willing to accept."

"Or maybe..." Zatanna frowned contemplatively, "is your informant part of a group? Or is he doing this solo?"

"Solo. Definitely solo. He's a bit of a loner."

Kid Flash snorted, "You're playing games with a lonely old guy now?"

Robin coughed back a laugh at the thought, "He's actually pretty young for this gig." The realisation sobered him. Fifteen, soon to be sixteen... He looked over the familiar faces of his friends. 'Damien' was same age as they were. It was so easy to forget sometimes.

"Oh, so Captain Marvel then?" The speedster was still joking.

"Not _that_ young KF. Anyway, what are you thinking Zee?"

"I'm not sure but... what if he wants something you can't bargain for? I mean, if he's used to doing things on his own... and whatever this information – or this secret – is, if his friend is in hiding over it then it must be big. Maybe he's trying to work out if you can be trusted. People might have tried to play him for it before."

"So... just give him time? That's it?"

"It would make sense," the Atlantean mused, "If the secret is as important as it seems, both could stand to lose much if their trust was misplaced. Perhaps as he adjusts to you – comes to know you – he will confide more."

The detective toyed with his watch, considering. It _would_ fit with the teen's behaviour. They definitely seemed be working up to the bigger topics.

"But why wouldn't he trust you in the first place?" M'gann seemed troubled, "You're heroes."

"He may have learned not to rely on what others say," Aqualad reasoned. "After all, there are many who would also consider Lex Luthor a 'hero'." The explanation was met with an irate snort from the Kryptonian.

"Apologies friend."

"It's fine..." Conner huffed, glowering slightly at the mention of his 'other father'.

Robin frowned, only half-listening. Years on stakeout had proven the value of patience, but the idea of doing nothing grated at him. Staying still in order to move forward... he definitely preferred a more proactive strategy. Especially when their quarry was also pursued by other, less friendly, parties. He and Batman might have been the first to find the ghost's partner, but there was no guarantee that 'Damien' would remain undetected for however many nights they needed to get the full story.

"Something wrong?" Zatanna noticed his preoccupation.

"Time mightn't be on our side here..."

"I'm sure you'll work something out. After all," the sorceress' smiled turned teasing, "it's what you do."

The Boy Wonder felt his mouth pull into a familiar cheeky grin – he'd heard _that_ before. "I'll try to stay whelmed." She winked, earning a small laugh. Wally gave the detective a conspiratorial look, waggling his eyebrows slyly. Ironic seeing that the speedster been trying and failing to catch the eye of a certain pretty blonde archer all day. And he thought things had been bad _before_ New Year's.

"Hey," speak of the devil. Artemis leaned around her would-be boyfriend, expression serious, "did you ever find anything on _our_ mystery guy?"

"Which one?" Robin lowered his voice, discomfort prickling across the back of his neck. With the mission he was on he could only think of one person. _'Please let her be talking about someone else.'_

"You know. From Portland." The archer's voice dropped to match his. He shifted, suddenly uneasy. From the corner of his eye he saw Kaldur sit up, leaning discretely towards them.

"Wait, Portland? What guy? What even happened there?" At least Wally kept the questions quiet. And was that a touch of jealousy in his tone? Robin's lip twitched but the small amusement did nothing to alleviate the growing awkwardness of the situation. They had come to a mutual consensus to avoid talk of that particular mission. There were too many personal issues, too many hidden demons for anyone to feel comfortable opening up about it. Although it _was_ a bit too much to ask for the speedster to ignore a conversation he was sitting right in the middle of.

Artemis explained in a whisper, "There was a new super. A kid – white hair, green eyes, bunch of powers. Helped us out, then _ditched_ as soon as we were done. Tell anyone and we'll deny it." She smirked slightly, "Too bad you weren't there Baywatch, you could have helped catch him." Robin swore silently as recognition dawned on Kid Flash's face. _Of course_ Wally was going to remember. It had been their first proper mission together – he had bugged him about it for _weeks_ afterwards. The speedster's head whipped towards him.

"That sounds like… dude, is that the same guy? The one from C-"

"Maybe," He cut his friend off before he could continue. The others were starting to give them curious looks. If Superboy heard the word 'Cadmus' there would be no stopping the team from getting involved. He couldn't afford that. Much as he appreciated their advice, he couldn't compromise the investigation. Not when they had so little control over it to begin with. He took a deep breath, turning back to the archer and speedster.

"I've done some digging," they had to lean forward to catch the quick, quiet answer, "but there wasn't much to find. It's all rumours - the guy basically doesn't exist. Bats and I are still looking but there's not a lot to tell. You already know most of it from last time. I'll keep you posted, but I've gotta focus on this other case right now okay?" Robin swallowed a small pang of guilt at the deception. It was _necessary_ , he reminded himself. He'd find a way to make it up to Wally later.

Fortunately a Martian intervened before any more questions could be asked. "What are you three up to? Is something wrong?"

"Nah, we're good Miss M," He smiled a huge, devilish smile at his best friend, "Just planning the engagement party." Kid Flash spluttered. Artemis choked. Both turned scarlet, the speedster nearly falling off the sofa as they scrabbled apart. The Boy Wonder cackled, receiving a matched set of furious glares. He'd have to watch his back for the next few days. But the look on Wally's _face_... it was totally worth it.

"So, I was thinking," M'gann fought down a fit of giggles at her friends' predicament, "the Happy Harbour Cinema is having a marathon special this weekend. Does anyone want to come? School isn't too busy yet and it sounds like they've got some good ones on."

"Sounds nice," agreed Zatanna, "it's been a while since we've had some normal fun." She laughed, "I've actually kind of missed it. What are they showing?"

The green-skinned girl practically beamed at the sorceress. "I'll get the program." She darted out of the room, returning with a flyer. The others quickly picked out their favourites, conversation rapidly dissolving into comparisons of plots, actors and bickering over different remakes. Artemis began to summarise a major series for Conner and Kaldur, cheeks still slightly pink. Robin bit back a snicker.

The detective slouched comfortably into the chair as his friends conferred. He absently studied the metal whorls on the ceiling, mind drifting back to the case. To their earlier discussion. Caution, adjustment... was the answer really that simple? He'd need more time to know for sure. But it did fit. _'Someone who wants to trust... but isn't sure that it's safe to.'_ It would explain the contrary behaviour. In fact, it was probably one of the better theories. He yawned, sliding fingers deftly beneath the glasses to rub at his eyes. The question was, how to act on it? Trust was a hard market to barter in. As Zatanna had said, it wasn't exactly something they could negotiate. _'Actually...'_ there might be a way. But the cost of doing so...

He shook his head, re-joining the conversation. They had decided to put it to a vote. He glanced quickly down at the options on the poster, raising a hand with the others as M'gann called out the titles. Chances were it was never going to happen. Knowing their luck a mission would come up as soon as they planned something. But it was still fun to go through the motions.

All in all it had been a productive afternoon. A few laughs, a soon-to-be movie night and a possible new lead. Robin grinned.

Bruce had been right – a day off was _exactly_ what he needed.

* * *

 **Looks like the gang's all here! The rest of the team needed some love. So many distinct characters... and I'm going to have to write them chapter after chapter once the main story starts. Sufferin' spooks, _what_ have I gotten myself into? **

**Please review! I really need the feedback. Did I get everyone down right? Do you like the story progression? Did you manage to stay awake through Robin's psychoanalytical musings at the start of the chapter?**

 **Also, digital cookies for anyone who picks the episode Rob' and Zee are talking about.**

 **Long and painful as this instalment may have been it was also tonnes of fun. Even if I rewrote it THREE TIMES before I was happy.  
A fourteen-year-old troll paired with an archer and speedster who are still in the awkward not-quite-official relationship stage. Really, what else was going to happen?**

 **Because his character has finally appeared, I thought would share a fun fact. The name 'Conner' originated in Ireland and derives from the Gaelic 'Conchobhar'. Why is this interesting? Because it translates to 'one who loves hounds/wolves'. Which means that either the YJ writers deserve a medal or that life is _very_ well written.  
(For those who are interested: Richard = 'brave power', Wallace = 'stranger', Artemis = 'huntress', Megan = 'pearl', and Daniel = 'god is my judge'.)**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter. As always, read, review and I'll see you in the next one!**

 **-3WD**


	12. Chapter 11: Trade Secrets

**Chapter 11: Trade Secrets**

Black-clad feet tapped lightly against the floor. Anxiety found a small fingerhold in his stomach. As he prowled the now-familiar dark corridors, Robin was struck by a strong sense of déjà vu. It was just like the first night.

Except that it wasn't. For one thing Batman wasn't here. In fact, the Dark Knight didn't even know he was making the trip. Which was a very deliberate decision on his part. The Boy Wonder didn't doubt his mentor would have had a few choice words to describe his current course of action.

Theories, plans and arguments swirled through his mind. Positives. Negatives. The truth was they couldn't allow things to continue as they were. With the recon, the interrogation – not even counting long days of research – the investigation was well into its second week. Longer than they could afford to spend on a lead that was shaping up to be as dead as all the others. The League, the Team, Gotham City, the Light, _the sixteen hours_ … Robin hated to admit it but 'Phantom' just wasn't that high of a priority. They couldn't put their other duties on indefinite hold for the sake of two teens. Especially with progress all but ground to a halt. Logic told them to cut their losses and leave; to find a new approach before they lost any more time. But the young detective couldn't bring himself to do it. And, going from the fact that he hadn't brought it up yet, the Dark Knight wasn't too keen on the idea either. They'd become too involved to just abandon the ghost and his partner. Especially when-

Metal rattled at the end of the hall.

Robin whirled around, a warning growl working its way up his throat, drawing a batarang as he spun to confront– a rather cold, disgruntled pigeon pecking at the window bars. The detective tucked the weapon quickly back into his belt, growl giving way to a soft, nervous chuckle. The Dark Knight's protégé jumping at shadows, so not astrous. Wally would be on the floor if he'd seen it. He shook himself firmly, readjusting his cape before continuing past the numbers. He shouldn't have over-reacted like that. Three days ago he wouldn't have.

And therein lay the second problem. People on the run weren't meant to stay in one place. There was only so long 'Damien' could linger before it became dangerous and Robin knew that, at some point in the last few days, the threshold had been crossed. Darkness lurked on the horizon, gaining ground with each night. It was unspoken, well-hidden, but they could all feel it. Clocks were running down on both sides, swinging pendulums undercutting the meetings. Their game of 'Twenty Questions' was taking too long.

Which was exactly why he was here. His new theory could be the break they were looking for.

It didn't make him any less nervous about it though.

Robin crouched beside the door, tugging the handle experimentally. 'Damien' might have kept the bunker unlocked for their meeting but he didn't expected it to stay that way after 'visiting hours'. The detective slipped the picks from his glove, quickly tripping the pins. He paused, thumbing over the logo pressed into the metal. _'These doors aren't designed to lock from the inside.'_ The Boy Wonder briefly examined the setting. It wasn't exactly high security. And the teen ran with _ghosts_. Who knew what tricks he'd picked up?

He hooked gloved fingers under the metal ridge, sliding into the enclosed darkness. Light swelled across the concrete as he twisted on the lamp, navigating his way towards the back corner. Robin gauged the distance carefully; stopping at what he hoped was edge of the teen's apparently sensitive hearing.

Again he was struck by the similarity to the first night. 'Damien' was asleep, a bundle of blankets and hoodie curled into the junction of walls and floor. But tonight's scene lacked the tiny semblance of peace that had softened their first encounter. Faded cloth rippled from the small stirrings of the figure beneath it. Restless, even in dreams. Robin paused, half-tempted to turn around. To leave well enough alone. They'd already kept the teen up for more than half the night and, from what he saw, the kid needed every hour he could spare. Though if the Boy Wonder was honest there was another reason for his hesitancy. He was stalling, delaying the moment when he'd have to put his plan into action. The possible consequences... but it was for a good cause. Hopefully. The young hero watched the figure a few seconds longer before gently clearing his throat.

A viper prodded with a burning branch. Cloth was flung aside as 'Damien' sprang upright, rising onto the balls of his feet faster than the detective would have thought possible. Metal gleamed in the teen's hand, hostility radiating from every pore. Robin took an unwitting step back, instincts hissing a warning. ' _Dangerous_ ' breathed a small voice in his mind. He slowly raised his hands, acutely aware of how close he was to being attacked. Something in the blue-green eyes promised a painful surprise for anyone foolish enough to test the individual in front of him. The young hero kept his stance as non-threatening as possible, meeting the fierce gaze with an air of forced calm.

Several heartbeats passed.

"Robin?" Confusion was clear despite the hardness of the teen's voice. The Boy Wonder gave a slow nod, wary of provoking aggression. It was with no small relief that he watched 'Damien' relax out of the fighter's crouch, blade vanishing up his sleeve. Blue eyes squinted against the light from the lamp, blinking tiredly through the gloom. "What...?" The boy grimaced, shaking off the last traces of sleep as he tried again. "Why are you here?" His gaze wandered the locker, searching for an absent second figure, "Where's...?"

"He's not here. It's just me."

"Okay?" The word was drawn out with slow incredulity. "Why?"

Rather than answer, Robin chose to cast an analytical eye over the teen. The shadows under 'Damien's' eyes were starting to looked inked on. He gestured to the floor. "Can I...?"

The teen's brow furrowed before he realised what was being asked. "Sure?" The detective sank fluidly to the ground, crossing his legs beneath him. 'Damien' watched for a moment before moving to sit cautiously on the other side of the light. Cold seeped through the Boy Wonder's protective layers, sending frosted fingers up his spine. He concealed a shiver, savouring a newfound appreciation for the frigid temperature of the locker. 'Damien' seemed unaffected by the icy conditions, though Robin doubted the thin jeans and jacket offered much insulation. He would have to be completely numb by now. That or very used to it.

"Are you alright?"

'Damien' started slightly at the question. "Yes...?"

"It's cold." He clarified.

The teen shrugged it off. "I don't really feel it." He rubbed the back of his neck – a nervous tic the detective had picked up on throughout the meetings. "So," he regarded the Boy Wonder curiously, "why are you here?"

Robin leaned forward, folding his hands over his ankles. "You don't trust us." His voice was gentle, a statement not an accusation. 'Damien' looked down. Even in the dim light of the lamp the Boy Wonder could see his ears reddening. "And I was kind of wondering why that was?" The teen bit his lip. He opened his mouth, paused, fumbled, then closed it awkwardly. Raven hair fell to hide the blue eyes as he silently shook his head. Robin wondered if the boy even knew the reason. Perhaps it was just instinct at this point.

Denim chafed the concrete as the teen shifted in place, continuing to examine his knees. Robin sighed. "Look, we're not being fair." 'Damien's' attention snapped back to him, eyes narrowing faintly. The detective watched him bristle at the perceived challenge, sensing the arguments to come. He held up a hand, "Just listen first, alright?" A sharp nod. "You're 'Phantom's' partner. That means that we're going to need to work with you – both of you – in the future."

"And?"

"And Batman and have been asking a lot of questions. Personal questions." The Boy Wonder took a breath, nudging into dangerous waters. "But we haven't been giving much..." a pause, "in return."

"So?" The reply was guarded, confusion written in the lines of 'Damien's' face. Clearly this wasn't the way he'd expected the conversation to go.

"So," Robin shaped the words with care, bringing his idea to the table, "let's make a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"A trade," the detective tightened his grip on his ankles. "We know practically nothing about you." _'Either of you,'_ he amended silently. "So let's swap," Robin tried to ignore the apprehension crawling across his skin. "You tell me yours and," he hesitated, "I'll tell you mine." He watched the older boy's face, gauging his reaction. "Deal?"

"I suppose..." Robin could see him examining the words, searching for any hidden deceptions. "Depends on what you want to know."

He cast around for an easy question. "Favourite colour?"

'Damien' shot him a dubious look, "Blue."

The Boy Wonder nodded encouragingly, "Red." The teen's eyes flickered down to his uniform. Robin shrugged – it was sort of obvious now that he thought about it – searching for other innocent topics. Better to start harmless, let the kid get a feel for the arrangement. He had to convince the teen that he could keep his side of the deal, let him trust that he would play by the rules. Push too hard, too soon and the door could snap shut. "Sports?" 'Damien' shook his head. "How about Hobbies?"

The other boy's eyes turned distant for a moment. "Astronomy..." He glanced upwards.

Robin followed the teen's gaze to the dim, heavy ceiling. The weight of it pressed down on the acrobat. "Gymnastics," he returned, drawing 'Damien's' attention back to him. "Do you play board games?" A nod. "Have a favourite?"

'Damien' rubbed at the back of his neck. "Anything that _isn't_ chess."

The young hero gave a quiet chuckle. "Monopoly." Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but the teen's answers seemed to be coming with more ease. He tried again, "Videogames?"

"Have you heard of 'Doomed'?" The detective nodded. The name rang vague bell... a small online multiplayer; some kind of fantasy shooter if he remembered right.

"Mario Kart." Robin's lip twitched, suddenly struck by the ridiculousness of their game. The most experienced member of the team, sitting in a locker at some ungodly hour of the night playing _trivia_ with a ghost's partner. He held down an unexpected laugh – it was beyond ludicrous. A small smirk broke through, "Cats or Dogs?"

The older boy made a tiny noise at the back of his throat, eyebrows lifting incredulously. The detective shrugged – ' _Why not?'_ 'Damien' leaned forward, resting his arms on the tops of his knees. "Dogs." The Boy Wonder's grin widened.

"Tell me about it. Cats are a _drag_." A spark played in the back of the teen's eyes, mouth lifting into what could almost be a smile. Shoulders relaxed as the boy ran a hand through his hair. Robin studied the change in posture, taking in the mood of the room. Time to chance a move into more sensitive territory. He kept his voice conversational, selecting the next question with a flutter of trepidation. "Birthday?"

The smile faded, unease flitting across 'Damien's' face. Tiny creases appeared between his brows. Conflicted. But _maybe_ , with the right push... "How about I start this time?" Wary blue eyes glanced at the detective. He swallowed a twinge of anxiety, "December first."

The teen gave a small nod, biting his lip as he regarded his own hands. "March twenty-fifth." Robin gave the boy a grateful smile, absorbing the new information. Sixteen this year so... 1995. _'File and Save.'_

"You travel a lot, right?" The detective pulled a titbit from the first night, moving them back toward the trivial. 'Damien' was clearly uncomfortable with the previous line of questioning. "Have you been overseas?"

A shrug. "Not really."

"That's a shame. Where would want to go, if you could?"

"Never really thought about it. 'Sides..." Robin caught the well-disguised sadness behind the word. The teen knew he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

"I'd like to go _back_ to Europe." The statement received a curious glance. "I was born there," the Boy Wonder explained, easing into the next question. "What about you?"

"Lived here my whole life."

"Do I get to know where?" He pried gently. The other boy gave him a flat look, wary once more. "Come on," he kept his tone light, "are you really going to make me guess?" It wouldn't take much. A state or even just a region could narrow down a list. And combined with a date of birth... but from the look in 'Damien's' eyes the teen knew exactly how easy it would be to retrieve a name. The blue gaze was becoming analytical, shoulders hunching slightly. Closing off. The boy rubbed the back of his neck again, expression pained. Could he answer? _Would_ he? The detective didn't know. And even if he did, what could he say in return? Everyone knew that the Batman's territory – _his_ territory – was Gotham City. It wouldn't be a fair trade.

Robin bit the inside of his cheek, running through his other options. Maybe the direct approach would be best. He was here for information, not to dance around the issue like they always did. There was another card to play, even if the thought of doing so made him nauseous. Better to just pay the price and get it done.

Still, there were only a few small steps between compromising and _being compromised_.

He sighed audibly, "This isn't working." 'Damien' glanced up at the change in tone. "Look, I get it. You're used to doing things on your own, and if there was a dissection table with my friend's name on it I probably wouldn't trust people either. But is this really where you want to be?" He ignored the teen's wince, gesturing to the barren emptiness around them. "Stuck in a box? It's dark, it's cold, you can't see the sky... I don't think you want to be here. And I _know_ it's _not safe_ for you to keep being here." He met the teen's gaze, holding the focus of the bright blue eyes. "You're worried. Fair enough. But we're not going to rat you out." The memory of Superboy's Cadmus pod flashed though his mind, leaving a sour flame behind. "I have a friend who was raised as a lab experiment. Batman and I would _never_ send anyone back to that. Do you really think we care that 'Phantom's' a ghost? I mean, half of the League technically aren't 'humans'." A myriad of emotions contorted 'Damien's' features. Robin took a breath, reaching the crux of the matter. "So-" a thought sent a swooping sensation through his stomach. "Confirm something for me?" The teen cocked his head, raising an eyebrow. "You do know where 'Phantom' is right now don't you? You could contact him if you wanted to?"

"Yes."

The detective allowed the assurance to wash over him. "I'm going to make you an offer." He was here, he'd already committed to the plan. Might as well go through with it. "One time deal only." He paused, "Tell me your name. Your _real_ one. Get in touch with 'Phantom', try to get him to talk to us. Set up a meeting if you can."

The teen leaned towards the suggestion. "Okay, and in return?"

"Like I said," Robin swallowed hard against the chills that crawled up his spine. He shaped the offer precisely, laying it on the table in a voice that was almost treacherously casual, "You tell me yours, I'll tell you mine."

The walls echoed from the absence of sound. 'Damien' gaped at him, expression almost comically stunned. He stumbled, mouth opening several times before finding his tongue. "You're," The teen's voice cracked in disbelief, "You're not serious."

Robin wished he could agree. Part of him wanted to grab the words and bury them far away. To take them back. What he was proposing wasn't just dangerous, it was _insane_. Hugely, _enormously_ reckless. And Batman... granted Bruce wasn't all that upset when Wally found out – not that he been pleased either – but that was _Wally._ Kid Flash. A respected and trusted hero. 'Damien' was a total stranger. An _unknown factor_. But that was the whole point. A show of trust. A leap of faith. If there was one thing he felt sure of, it was that the teen was loyal. And if he was going to gamble he'd at least do it on someone who'd saved his life.

"I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't." The Boy Wonder tried to believe his own conviction.

Silence fell in the locker, chasing the shadows around the walls. Robin swore he could hear the snow falling on the roof outside. The other boy was frozen in place, face hidden by a hand that tangled through his fringe. A small voice stirred in the Boy Wonder's chest, gaining strength with each passing second. It was going to be okay. The kid wasn't going to answer. He didn't have to go through with it.

Time slowed.

"...Danny."

The teen seemed surprised to hear his own voice. He shivered; whether from fear, exhaustion or cold the Boy Wonder couldn't tell. A shaky breath was released, hesitation clear. "My name's Danny. Daniel James Fenton." Robin didn't need to be a psychoanalyst to understand the struggle it would have taken to say the words. The boy – Danny, _Danny_ ; he finally had a real name – scrubbed his face with the heel of a hand, looking everywhere except at the young hero. He gave an encouraging nod, mentally filing the precious information. Blue eyes flickered his way. The teen had paid the price.

So.

It was his turn.

Cold sweat dampened Robin's hair, plastering raven strands to the back of his neck. For a second the Boy Wonder was tempted to lie, to throw out a false name and protect his alias. He had what he came for – did the truth really matter now? The thought was sickeningly low. Incredibly compelling. He swallowed.

"Richard..." The weight of secrets pressed against his tongue, "Richard John Grayson." He dragged teeth over his lower lip before adding, "Friends call me Dick." Robin dropped his gaze to his interlocked fingers, unable to look the other boy in the eye. Hands were squeezed together tightly, counting each breath to keep them steady. He felt _small_. Vulnerable. Knowing that another person held that kind of power, actually _giving_ it to them... He could sense Danny watching him, fitting the name to something beyond the mask; something more than a costume and a symbol. The detective ignored it, focussing on his protesting fingers, relaxing each from its grip as his heart slowed.

Eventually he steadied enough to glance upwards, earning an awkward cough from a teen not expecting to be caught in the act of staring. Danny looked quickly away, hand lifting to his neck. A spider-web crack divided the wall near the corner. Robin fixed his attention on the small flaw, allowing his thoughts to settle. Moving out of the over and into the whelmed. He had a few new pieces for the puzzle. But their deal had also included another.

"And 'Phantom'?" The Boy Wonder broached the topic carefully, "You'll talk to him?"

"Yeah," Danny gave a slow nod. "Tomorrow... can you get here early tomorrow?" Robin nodded quickly, running through the schedule in his mind. An opportunity to meet the ghost – he'd find a way to make time. "I'll explain everything then." The detective's eyes narrowed slightly at the change in conditions.

"And _he'll_ be there?" An oddly uncomfortable look flitted across the boy's face.

"We'll see. Hopefully yes." The teen frowned, appearing to debate something, "Could you do me a favour?"

Robin's eyebrow quirked upwards. "Depends on what it is."

"It's just... Danny _Fenton_ 's been gone for a while now. If someone suddenly starts looking into his case..."

"...it might tip the wrong people off," the detective realised. "I'll be careful. Can I ask one in return?"

"I guess."

"I probably don't need to say this but," the Boy Wonder put as much authority as he could into the words, "my identity, Batman's identity – they need to stay secret. People could get hurt if they knew." He thought for a moment, "If you have to tell 'Phantom' to get him to show then I guess...but _only_ him and only if you _have_ to. You can't tell anyone else." He scrutinized the other boy's reaction, relieved at the seriousness on Danny's face.

"It won't leave this room. I swear." Robin allowed himself to relax slightly.

A newer, more comfortable silence made its way into the vault, both boys watching each other across the pool of light. Danny raised a hand to his mouth, eyes crinkling in a failed attempt to stifle a yawn. The young detective held back a reply of his own, suddenly feeling the sleepless hours. His eyes were sandpapered behind the mask. Robin flicked on the holo-screen, wincing at the readout on the clock. Even by his standards it was exceptionally late – or rather, _early_. And with the time difference to Gotham...

"I should go." He pushed himself stiffly from the ground. The older boy mirrored his action, rising to his feet with the Boy Wonder. On impulse the detective stuck out his hand, rewarded with a cold but surprisingly firm grip. Robin could feel his knuckles through the glove.

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow."

He turned to leave.

"Dick?" The Boy Wonder pulled up short at the sound of his real name.

He glanced back to the teen, "Yeah?"

Danny gave him a tired grin, the closest thing to a genuine smile he had seen in the long nights.

"Thanks."

Robin sent a mock-salute over his shoulder, making his way out the door.

* * *

Creeping silently through the fire exit the Boy Wonder took to the rooftops, heading for the Seattle Zeta port. He swung across the skyline, blood thrumming with a strange mix of pride, excitement and trepidation. Against all odds and idiocy his idea had paid off. The coming day could bring their search to a close. And in the meantime he had some research to do.

Assuming he survived whatever training regime Batman would assign when he found out, of course.

* * *

 **Phew...** **Is it possible for words to actively fight you?** **Because I swear they did in this chapter.** **I hope I didn't make anyone to OOC, but let me know if/where I went awry.**

 **This scene felt so much bigger than it is - objectively it's just 2 boys in a locker. But at the same time... making it dramatic and realistic without melodrama? Oy vey. I think I'm now suffering from what my friend eloquently calls a profound intellectual hangover.**

 **Sadly Butch never gave us a lot of "official" data on Danny, and Young Justice didn't extensively follow the civilian lives of its characters, so I had to come up with or use a lot of accepted headcanons for this chapter.** **If you want to know what's canon and what's fiction PM me - I'd love to hear some of your own fun/interesting theories on the shows if you feel like sharing.**

 **Fun fact time:**

 **Fact #1: Canonically Robin is** **born on December 1 1996, making him a Sagittarius... which is very fitting if you read the typical "Sagittarian" personality.**

 **Fact #2:** **How many people think Danny's middle name is officially James?** **It's actually** ** _not_** **–** **it's just an exceptionally widely accepted fan theory. No-one in the series has middle names (except for Freakshow – his is Isak).**

 **Also, for those who had a stab at guessing the reference from the last chapter:** **  
Robin and Zatanna were throwing back to the line "I know it's hard, but** **try to stay whelmed** **.** **We'll find your Dad, Batman all of them.** **It's** **what we do** **." Which he said to her during the episode** ** _Misplaced_** **(Ep. 19).** **An episode which, ironically, was aired with the wrong episode's credits attached when it premiered on CN. Something to laugh about in hindsight I guess.**

 **Finally, I want to take a moment to shout out to you amazing readers who have followed and faved. 200 followers! Oh my gosh. I thought I might get... 10? maybe 20? Many thanks. Also, much gratitude to all the people who've taken time to write reviews, tell me what you think, or even just say that you enjoyed it. Trust me, this story wouldn't be anywhere near the quality or length if it wasn't for you.**

 **As always, read, review and hopefully enjoy!  
** **Until next time.**

 **-3WD**


	13. Chapter 12: Answers

**Chapter 12: Answers**

Grayson... who would have thought the world most mysterious teen would have such a public identity? The tinkle of a bell drew Danny's focus away from the monitor, eyes snapping up to canvas the interior of the internet café. One of the other customers had left. He rolled his shoulders, settling into the small corner seat. Going out in public was a risk, and it paid to be careful. The halfa turned back to the screen, typing a few new keywords into the search engine. Nine months on the run had made him remarkably diligent when it came to his 'homework'. Mr Lancer would have been proud. _'Though really it was Tuck' who did most of the work...'_ Danny bit down the pang, fixing his attention on the news clippings he'd found.

It was surprising how many results he'd managed from just a name. Usually Googling someone pulled up one or two useful hits, but apparently the dynamic duo had the most public private lives in the history of herodom. Now that he knew what to look for it was fairly easy to pick out the slim, neatly dressed, blue-eyed boy standing beside Gotham's most influential socialite. A domino mask and some gel could only hide so much. Though he was hardly one to talk. At least _Robin_ hadn't used his _first name_ as part of his alter-ego. Danny was grateful that most people chose to overlook that particular mistake when referring to his ghost half.

Anyway, Richard Grayson. The son – or more accurately, _ward_ – of multibillionaire playboy Bruce Wayne. Taken in by the businessman after his family's trapeze act went terribly wrong. Nine years old, foul play suspected. Familiar tightness seized the halfa's throat; a sudden prick of sympathy for the younger boy. Robin always seemed so assured, so _happy_ next to his mentor. He never would have guessed... Danny quickly closed the tab, moving on to other topics. As far as the rest of the world knew, Dick Grayson lived the typical life of the city's somewhat eccentric upper class. Didn't spend a lot of time in the public eye but occasionally made headlines at national _Mathletics_ competitions – of all things – or attending charity balls at the elbow of his guardian.

' _Bruce Wayne._ ' Just when he though the Batman couldn't get more intimidating. The 'King of Gotham' – even without the masks the dynamic duo had half the city under their thumb. Not to mention the rest of the world. Wayne Enterprises was _enormous_. Global spread, footholds in manufacturing, health sciences, transport, entertainment, advanced technologies... even his parents' business – which prided itself on original tech – carried the W.E. logo on the few generic components it outsourced. The halfa whistled through his teeth, struck by newfound respect for the cowled figure. Impossible, absolutely impossible...

But at the same time it made a lot of sense. The suits, the huge array of tech and vehicles, even the way the Justice League funded itself... the ultimate hiding in plain sight because the idea was so stupidly ridiculous. What sane person would expect the two most reclusive heroes to be headlining in the Gotham Gazette every other day? That the dapper, polished duo standing with easy grace and casually refined smiles for the cameras could hold their own against some of the world's worst villains? Sam would have been mortified. The Dark Knight and his apprentice were the closest thing she had to a 'favourite' hero – not that she'd ever _admit_ to liking something so 'mainstream' – but when it came to 'those superficial upper-class flakies who swan about with their PR smiles and token charity groups and never do anything to solve the real problems'... even her violet gloss would have turned red. Tucker would freak. He'd totally geek out at the idea of knowing any Leaguer's identity – Dani joining in. And Jazz... Jazz would have been ecstatic. The idea of meeting other people who lived double lives – she'd have gone overboard with the psychoanalysis, asking questions, wondering which mask was the 'real' one, if they'd ever had the same issues as her 'little brother'... Danny shook his head violently against the sudden stab of pain. _'Jeez Fenton, why do you do that to yourself?'_ He needed to think clearly, which meant not thinking about _them_. About the fact that they were... _'Okay, stopping that thought right there._ '

The halfa traced the table top with a fingernail, ignoring everything except the non-existent patterns in the cheap finish. In hindsight the whole thing felt foolish. All the caution, the evasion... Clockwork was right. It was safe. He probably could have told himself that a few days ago but something had always held him back. Had urged him to wait, even though he really didn't need to, even though he was running out of other topics. He definitely hadn't expected Robin to come and find him on his own. To make _that_ offer. Danny rubbed his eyes, trying to wipe away the dark circles. How long had it been since he'd actually _talked_ to someone? Had an actual conversation, not just the necessary few-minute exchange to get food and shelter? He was really truly, hopelessly out of practice with other people wasn't he? It was going to be okay. And just in case he needed more proof, there were no links between the Waynes and red flags like Axion or DALVcorp. No Danger. No Vlad. Besides, the Boy Wonder had put his neck on the block for him. Even if he wasn't sure, that kind of gesture deserved something in return.

He'd just have to hope they'd understand.

* * *

Fenton, Daniel J.  
Age: 15  
Date of birth: March 25 1995  
Appearance: Caucasian/ Dark Hair/ Blue eyes/ Thin Build  
Official Status: Deceased.

Which actually explained a lot.

Robin sighed, reaching up to massage his temples. Somehow the idea that the ghost's partner could also be 'dead' had managed to slip right past him. It was almost embarrassing. He carefully retraced his steps through the databases, being sure to erase all signs of his search. Not something he usually would bother with – even skilled hackers had difficulty following his trail – but if the people he was up against were willing to stalk a teenager for nine months then it paid to take extra precautions. The Boy Wonder finished backdating the entry logs, turning his attention to the small pile of newly 'acquired' information. Daniel Fenton's life might seem average at a glance, but the more abnormal parts were definitely noteworthy.

Fenton. The name had felt familiar as soon as he heard it. Amity Park's most prominent 'ghost hunters'. A small family– parents Madeline and Jack, older daughter Jasmine. Danny was the youngest. As far as the rest of the world knew, all four members had been laid to rest in the Amity Park Cemetery. The victims of the two worst non-ghost-related tragedies in the town's recent history.

He started with the second incident, the one that linked more directly to his case. Four faces appeared on screen. Jasmine, Daniel and two family friends – Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley. The teens had disappeared within a week of the first disaster; declared dead after the family home and business – Fenton Works – was destroyed by an explosion. Exact cause unknown, attributed to improper storage of volatile chemicals in the on-site laboratory. Occupational Health and Safety had raised concerns about the building before. No bodies recovered – the blast had all but vaporised the basement and the rest of the house apparently wasn't much better – but sufficient forensic evidence and witness statements were gathered to place all four children on premises at the time. Local authorities had pursued the case a little further than normal in light of recent events, but no-one in the town had pushed for added information. A knot of empathy tied itself in Robin's chest. There'd been no push for the truth because nobody had been there to do the pushing. The teens' parents were confirmed deceased less than a week earlier. The first tragedy. Another explosion – reportedly due to a dysfunctional boiler – at the local school, Casper High. This time there was little room for doubt; the accident had claimed the lives of Madeline, Jack, Angela and Maurice Foley, Pamela and Jeremy Manson and vice principle Edward Lancer. A parent-teacher meeting gone horribly wrong. The detective winced. He'd already suspected the truth, but to see it laid out so starkly... Eyes in different shades of blue, green and violet watched him from the monitor. Danny was still very much alive, so maybe, just maybe... but the sour feeling in his stomach and the air of loneliness that surrounded the older boy warned him not to hope. The teen had obviously been flying alone for a while.

He shook away the thought, highlighting one of the photos. The face was younger, a little rounder, cheeks a little fuller, shorter hair, brighter smile – but still definitely the boy from the locker. So what was the connection? The appearance of 'Phantom' had heralded the town's great streak of hauntings. Both events supposedly linked back to a somehow stable portal to the other side. And at the same time, Danny Fenton's life had been turned upside down. A well-behaved, polite – if geeky and somewhat clumsy – high B average student had become a complete anarchist almost overnight. Barely passing, sleeping in class, tardiness, ditching school completely... and the nurses reports. Unexplained bruises, cuts, claw marks, burns, occasionally something more serious... all with flimsy excuses, and apparently only reported when concerned teachers _forced_ the teen into going to the school office. No-one had been able to understand why. Bullying was considered and discarded, subtle enquiries into the teen's home life indicated that the family were their usual, eccentric but supportive, selves and the town lacked the big-city gang, fight or drug cultures that could otherwise cause the change. Eventually it had been decided that Daniel suffered from a debilitating phobia of the paranormal. His behaviour reportedly worsened when ghosts were about and he was almost never present during attacks.

Gloved fingers drummed the keys in agitation. It would all have been consistent with someone moonlighting as 'the Phantom's' partner, but no matter how the Boy Wonder looked at it, he couldn't make that theory stick. For one thing, the kid was a _Fenton_. A member of the family so frequent vocal and actively aggressive in opposing the ghost that they had made it into the urban myths. Even as scientists, their research centred around the 'inherent evil' of the spirits, detailing creatures that were as lacking in their capacity to feel pain and emotion as they were to be fully sentient. It didn't make sense for someone raised in that environment to even approach a ghost, let alone strike up an alliance with one. And even if the individual members of the family had never been named in the stories, how was it that no-one had made mention of the supposed 'partner'? The teen had to have been doing field work, and frequently too. So why had nobody ever seen him? He was still missing something. There had to be a connection, some fact he was overlooking, a fundamental assumption he was making. Robin pulled up the file containing what little solid evidence they had gathered on the ghost, fully intending to pick every inch of the information apart-

And froze.

It was one of the few clear images he had recovered from the government files, taken within weeks of the dark-haired teen's class photo. One of few files to feature a full-face shot of the spectre. He enlarged the image, lightening and enhancing, laying it next to the picture of the other boy. The ghost's aura altered the shadows enough to escape a casual glance, but the angle of the cheekbones, the shape of the eyes, the line of the nose and jaw, right down to the haircut...

A _fundamental assumption_. Two equal and opposite forces, two concepts that were so absolutely defined that no-one would think to look. Like a catalyst the thought sparked a chain reaction of memories. Small inconsistencies, abnormalities that meant nothing on their own but taken together... _The tracer. Never online when Fenton was present. A door that couldn't be locked from the inside. The abnormally low thermal reading. Faint green flashes in the blue eyes when the teen was threatened or pushed too close to dangerous territory. The vague, two-way answers. "He's your partner." "Wouldn't exactly put it that way"... "I don't ever really_ see _him"... "It's complicated"... "That's not how it works."_

And another detail. When the ghost had first claimed a name for himself it had had two parts. The first had faded out over the months but it appeared too often to be a random embellishment.

The penny tumbled, hitting the ground with a clang that shook reality.

Phantom. Danny Phantom. _Danny_.

 _'How is that possible?'_

* * *

If Miss Martian had set up a mindlink right now, she probably would have gotten a headache. Robin's brain felt like it was in overdrive, trying to make sense of the new realisation. The world was full of grey areas, of middle grounds – most of the work he did with Batman fell outside of the black and white. But some things _had_ to be defined, had to be cut-and-dried... didn't they? He kept looking for the alternatives, for other evidence... but everything he found only seemed to add strength to his epiphany. Exactly _what_ was Daniel Fenton? A human with ghost-like powers, passing himself off as one of the undead? A ghost who'd taken on a human form, the same way Martians and other aliens concealed themselves to blend in on earth? Or was his theory completely wrong?

Hopefully he was about to find out.

The inside of the locker looked the same as it did every night. Robin carefully scanned the room, taking in any possible differences. Danny stood in his usual corner, presence seeming to emphasise the lack of an expected second figure. Realisation nudged the young hero again. The teen rubbed absently at his neck, looking up at the sound of the opening door.

"Hey." A mutter and a nod answered the Boy Wonder's greeting, hand dropping to toy with the hem of his sleeve. The detective's gaze wandered the walls. Invisibility was a definite option, but from the way the other boy was acting... Danny already fidgeted more than 'Damien' ever had. "So," he studied the teen carefully, "will he be here soon?"

The same oddly uncomfortable look flashed across the older boy's face. He glanced down, tugging at his collar. "I... um, look. About that..." he swallowed nervously, "there's something... the truth is..."

"You're him." Robin finally let himself admit his suspicions.

Danny froze. Surprise. Fear. Guilt. They danced across the teen's face before settling into resignation. He sighed, biting his lip as his head dipped in affirmation. The detective's first theory had turned out to be the right one. The idea that he had, until a few hours ago, discarded on the grounds that it was too improbable to be real.

And yet, here they were.

Robin raised an expectant eyebrow, making a gesture of invitation. Danny seemed to force himself to meet the young hero's gaze, glancing back down as hesitantly stepped away from the wall. He paused, arms hanging loosely by his sides.

A spark flared.

Cold white light bloomed around the teen's midriff, splitting into two rings that swept outwards from his core. As they moved they changed, pulling smooth black fabric over loose-fitting street clothes, pouring electrified green into the pale blue, turning fair skin dark as colour bleached from the raven hair. A faint, misty glow joined the lamp's dull yellow, the already cold temperature dropping noticeably. Reaching the floor and empty air, the light flickered and died.

A familiar ghost watched from where the boy once stood.

The detective appraised the difference, scientific curiosity drawn to the paradox. The transformation had inverted the teen's colours – all except the eyebrows, which, for whatever reason, remained dark in both forms – but in build and body shape everything else remained the same. Clearly still Daniel Fenton, just more... spectral. Neon eyes shone with unearthly light, a fainter glow from the white hair adding to the dim aura that cast pale shadows over several feet of cement. Unfamiliar dark fabric – possibly a form of latex – stretched over a frame that was taller, more sharply angled than the photos of Amity Park's self-appointed protector. Older, thinner; someone who had seen harder times than the confident fourteen year old from the pictures. He... seemed really nervous, the Boy Wonder realised. Shoulders hunched slightly, leaning away from the analytical stare. Unexpected fear lit the brilliant green, an almost pleading edge to worried glances. Uneasy. Probably not of an attack – the Boy Wonder was painfully aware of how underpowered he was compared to a ghost – so there had to be something else, something that worried the spirit more than... _'Oh'_.

Robin sent the teen an apologetic smile. "So, you're a ghost?" He kept his voice casual, acting as though it was the most normal question in the world. A small amount of tension bled out of the older boy's frame, fear softening to caution as he nodded.

"When I'm like this, yes." The Boy Wonder blinked, grateful for the mask that hid his surprise. He'd forgotten the strange, faintly hollow echo that layered the spirit's voice. The ghost _sounded_ haunted.

"And you go by 'Phantom'?" They hadn't been corrected on their use of the title, but after the number of times people had butchered Kid Flash's name he felt compelled to check. The spectre dipped his head. "Wait..." Robin paused, noticing a difference in the previous answer "when you're like this? What happens the rest of the time?"

Phantom tugged at his glove, hand lifting to his neck in a familiar motion. "I'm... human." His mouth twisted ruefully. "Well, _half_ human anyway." Robin's brow furrowed. A human with ghost powers was understandable. A spectre that could take on a human appearance made sense. But a... part-ghost?

"How?"

"I'm what people call a halfa. A hybrid," the spirit elaborated. "Half a kid, half a ghost." He glanced his way, seeming to anticipate a question, "And no, we're not born like this." Robin grimaced – an idea he could definitely have done without. Besides, all records suggested the Fenton's were one hundred percent human.

"Then how?"

The ghost ran a thumb over his chin, seemingly unsure of how to approach the topic. "How... How much do you know about my family?"

"They were researchers," The Boy Wonder stepped lightly, knowing he was walking potentially sensitive ground. "Specialised in ecto-biology... ghost science." He'd picked up a few of their papers out of interest. The high level physics and chemical spectra involved were more Wally's territory, but he'd got the gist. "Inventors," the business had supplied most of the publicly available ecto-tech in Amity Park, as well as some clean-energy modified pieces further afield. Then there were the urban legends, "and hunters."

Phantom tucked his chin, eyes turning distant. "Yeah..." he shook his head slightly, refocusing on the younger hero. "I told you that Amity Park's ghost problem was because of a stable portal, right?" Robin nodded curiously. "Well, what I didn't tell you was that it was _our_ portal." _'Wait what?'_ The ghost sighed. "My parents' big project. They were trying to open a permanent door to the Ghost Zone – get real data to work with. They'd been at it since their college days and when they tried this time... well, it flopped again. Or, at least that's what we all though. I was down in the lab with my friends a couple of days later. They wanted to see it... and I got curious enough to go inside." He grimaced, "There was an internal backup switch."

The detective's stomach turned over. "You mean you were...?"

"Standing in the portal when it came online." The ghost shivered, rubbing his arm. "Not exactly a party." Robin's skin crawled. Trapped inside something designed to punch through to another dimensional plane, exposed to who-knew-what kind of warping forces. The sheer amount of energy... forget dying, anything caught by that should have been _obliterated_. The idea made his throat clench. Phantom was lucky to even be _half_ alive. _'Half alive.'_ The Boy Wonder blinked, suddenly registering another, bizarre, implication of the teen's status.

"Do you know what happened?" The ghost gave him an inquisitive look. "Physiologically," the detective clarified. "How does the 'halfa' thing work?"

"I... have no clue," he admitted. "Halfas... let's face it, we're freaks." Phantom's mouth twitched in a self-depreciating, almost bitter smile. "There's only ever been, what – three of us? In all of history. We're not really supposed to exist, so it's not like there's any information out there." He sighed tiredly. "The best we we've been able to guess is that my DNA is... _fused_ with ectoplasm from the Zone. Or coated in it, or made of it – I don't know for sure. It's not like I can just walk into a hospital or a lab and get it checked." The ghost shrugged the words away with a dismissive noise; an attempt at nonchalance that couldn't quite hide the loneliness in his eyes. Robin wondered how many sleepless nights Phantom had had over the same question.

"You know," he offered, "the League has contacts in some high-end research labs. If you ever wanted to find out... we'd make sure the information stayed safe. They're already used to dealing with supers and aliens so you wouldn't have to worry – they know not to ask too many questions." The teen gave him a startled look, smile warming into something more genuine.

"I'll remember that."

The Boy Wonder's gaze drifted to the white glove that covered the spirit's right hand. The glove he had coated with tracer gel. Batman had known he was planning to head out early, but his mentor should have seen the signal come online by now. And depending on when he'd responded to the beacon... Robin glanced over his shoulder at the door.

It didn't go unnoticed. "He'll be here soon, right?" The detective nodded, shifting his position so that he could see the entrance. Phantom shifted as well, sending the young hero a concerned glance. "Um... does he know? You know," the halfling gestured towards himself, "about this?"

"Probably," he hadn't exactly _told_ Bruce his new theory, but he had left the new files prominently on his desk before leaving. "He'll have figured it out by now."

Phantom stiffened, eyes darting to the steel tracks of the door. The ghost straightened, setting his shoulders as the handle clicked and a second, darker shadow joined them in the vault. The Bat seemed completely unsurprised by the presence of the spectre, moving quietly to stand with his protégé. Robin sent a faintly smug grin his mentor's way, receiving a slight upward shift in the lines around the Dark Knight's mouth before the elder hero slipped back into business mode.

"Daniel Fenton?" Batman appraised the young ghost, directing a questioning glance at the Boy Wonder. Robin dipped his chin in unspoken answer. "Why didn't you tell us?"

The spirit hesitated. "About that." He exhaled, "I... owe you an apology. I've made this way harder than it needed to be. I guess I'm out of practice trusting people – and I'm not all that great at taking advice – but still…" Phantom shook his head, moving his hand in a gesture of peace, "for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I should've been straight with you to begin with." A smile crept onto the Boy Wonder's face. He could sense Batman's surprise beside him; apologies – at least, genuine ones – were rare on the job. Especially from the person they were investigating.

"How much of what you've told us is true?"

"Everything. I might have left some parts out but I wasn't lying."

"Then why hide the truth at all?"

Phantom rubbed the back of his neck. "Honestly? I've never been good with secrets. Even back in Amity there were times when I should have told people – when I _owed_ it to them – but…" he looked down, melancholy regret burning behind his eyes before they were obscured by the shock of white hair. He quickly brushed the bangs away. "And the way things have been going, if something had leaked – if the right information got into the wrong hands… well, it would be bad. For everyone. Humans and ghosts."

"Good reasons to hold back. But you understand that..."

"You have questions. I get it. So," the ghost watched the duo expectantly, "what do you want to know?"

The Boy Wonder flicked an incredulous look the Dark Knight's way. After so long on the case there was something almost laughable about the idea of just _asking_ for information. Batman reached into a pocket of his uniform, unaffected by his charge's amusement as he withdrew a number of printed pages. It was unfortunate but, by necessity, the topic they had to start with was an unpleasant one.

"You've had some bad press." The majority of the myths seemed to be positive, but there were a substantial number of critics amongst the fans. Many simply opposed the idea of a ghost, but some of the specifics were... disturbing to say the least. Robin gave the articles a dubious look. More than half of what he'd read had to be borrowed straight from old-school horror stories – word for word in some cases – and he couldn't see the Danny showing the kind of cold-blooded cruelty other rumours wanted to paint on him. But the allegations were severe enough to warrant following up.

The spectre thumbed through the file, expression morphing from curiosity to distaste. He glanced up at the elder hero.

"Where did you get these?"

"The same places that gave us our initial information. Obviously we can't put credence in the source," the sites were riddles with misinformation, as they had found throughout the nights of interrogation, "but as you can see some of claims are _very_ serious." The Dark Knight fixed the teenager sternly in his sights. Phantom didn't seem like the criminal type... but then again, neither would most of the people they faced.

"That's not saying we believe them," Robin was quick to add, "but we need to hear your side of the story. Routine practice, you know?"

The ghost nodded, turning a few more pages. He paused on a particular article, wincing as he rubbed his chin. "Okay to start with, this one's completely wrong. The Red Huntress is real, but she's not trying to avenge anyone. I never touched her family."

"Then what happened?"

Phantom sighed. "There was this ghost dog – Cujo. He used to be a guard dog for the company where Red's dad worked but when they went electronic all the dogs, well..." he trailed off, making an indicative motion. "Anyway, Cujo kept going back to the lab to get this squeaky toy that was buried in the kennels. He'd wreck the place, I'd try to stop him... her dad was head of security. He almost got fired because the system couldn't keep him out. They lost a lot."

"That doesn't explain the grudge against you."

A vaguely exasperated look crossed the ghost's face. "Red thought Cujo was _my_ dog. That I owned him..."

"...and that you were setting him on the building," Robin finished. That would explain her reportedly specific loathing of the town protector. "She thought you were _trying_ to destroy her father's reputation."

"More or less. Once it was over, I tried to explain but..." he made a defeated gesture.

"She still holds you responsible."

"Exactly. Blames me, hates me for it... she thinks ghosts are nothing but trouble." Phantom looked down at the paper with repulsion, "But I swear I _never_ hurt her Dad. I was trying to fix things between us." The same tired regret flickered in his eyes, hand waving helplessly towards the page. "I have _no_ idea where that story came from."

The Boy Wonder nodded sympathetically. It wouldn't be the first time a hero – or villain for that matter – had fallen victim to the rumour mill. Even the most publically active League members couldn't completely escape the speculations of the general public. Themselves included. Both he and Batman had encountered some truly appalling attempts to detail their origins and motives; the tip of the iceberg compared to the stories that circulated around their super-powered colleagues.

"Okay, that makes sense."

"But there have been other allegations." The Dark Knight glanced at the file in the teen's hands. The violence of the 'Huntress' myths may have been overblown but they were only one slice in a thick stack of claims. Phantom made a face as he turned to the next story.

"Before you ask, I never kidnapped the mayor, or anyone else. That was a set up."

"By who?"

"Another ghost. Walker. He's the prison warden."

Robin raised an eyebrow, "The Ghost Zone has a jail?" They'd briefly touched the Flipside's geography and social hierarchy, but its legal system hadn't been something they'd considered. The ghost nodded.

"Yeah, and laws to go with it."

Batman's eyes narrowed, not liking the implications. "You broke the law?"

"In a way..." Phantom's mouth twisted strangely, "But not really."

The Boy Wonder's mask creased, trying to make sense of the statement. "What's that supposed to mean?" You either broke the law or you didn't. Courts didn't typically have halfway points – unless the afterlife worked by a different process.

"Well, different regions of the Zone have their own laws. Most are pretty standard – don't kill, don't steal, don't start pointless fights, that sort of thing – but Walker is... crazy. In his corner he's the lawmaker, enforcer, judge, jury, jailor _and_ the executioner all at the same time." The Bat held back a snort. No system based on a single, unquestionable power remained 'fair and just' for long. Apparently some things were constant even in death. "He has rules for everything and anything – loitering, possessing real world items... right down to the colour of your socks. Every time I come back, he's added a new one." Phantom grimaced at a memory. "A thousand years is his idea of a lenient sentence, and that would be for something small. He had half the ghosts I know locked away for basically no reason."

It didn't take a detective's skills for Robin to see where the story was headed. "I'm guessing you..."

"Broke out, yeah. Obviously he didn't like that very much and decided to get revenge."

"By making it look like you kidnapped the mayor?" A small amount of scepticism bled into the Bird's tone.

"He said something about 'making the human world into my own personal prison'." The ghost rolled his eyes, clearly in agreement with the Boy Wonder's sentiment. "He and some of his goons overshadowed-"

"Overshadowed?"

"Possessed," Phantom clarified. "Took over their bodies." Unease prickled down Robin's shoulders; he'd half-hoped that particular power was a myth. "Anyway, they overshadowed the mayor, some of the students, the head of the school... put everyone on lockdown. Turned the town against me," the frustration in his voice was clear. "Made it seem like it was all my fault. Walker was controlling the mayor personally."

"You tried to stop him." It was easy for the Dark Knight to connect the dots.

"Yeah, but what everyone else saw was 'Danny Phantom the town menace' attacking 'Mayor Montez'. Walker made _sure_ we had an audience." He snorted irritably, shaking his head. "Grabbed hold of me on camera and pretended I was holding him hostage." It was clear that the incident still carried a bitter taste. "Took a long time for anyone to believe I was on their side after that."

 _Dis_ turbing though it was, the Boy Wonder had to credit the warden's plan. _'Go back to ghost-jail, or be hunted by humans.'_ As revenge schemes went it sounded remarkably thorough. And believable. It was strange to only have one witness but he'd easily take Danny's word over the hate and propaganda of the anonymous authors. The counter-stories fitted with everything Robin had already seen; not a villain but a fellow hero – albeit one apparently suffering from bad publicity, clever enemies and a chronic case of wrong-place-wrong-time.

"And the thefts?" he asked, sensing the pattern, "Similar story again?"

Phantom's gaze drifted down to the floor. He scuffed a boot against the cement, shame flickering across his face as he reached a hand to his neck. "...No. Those... actually happened."

The confession struck the young detective like a slap, stomach dropping as he stared at the ghost.

"Explain. Now." The Dark Knight's words came out sharper than normal.

"A... circus came to town. Sort of like a gothic, freak show carnival." The spirit swallowed nervously. "We didn't know it at first, but the main performers were actually ghosts. The ringmaster, he had this... staff. We're not sure exactly what it was – magic, a ghostly item, hypnosis... whatever it was, it could control us, make us compelled to do everything he said. Even seeing it on a screen was enough. I..." he paused, remorse twisting his features, "I honestly don't remember most of what came next. I know I did a lot of bad things – some really bad. They told me afterwards... he sent me out to steal with the others. And... other things too." He shivered. "My friends were able to stop me, to get through to me somehow. They helped me fight it, managed to get the staff away from him. Broke his control. The other ghosts got free as well and he was arrested. Turns out there'd been robberies all along the circus' tour route." Phantom shuffled in place, staring resolutely at his feet.

Tension uncoiled between Robin's shoulders. "You weren't in control."

"No." The ghost's eyes flickered guiltily to the young hero. "But that doesn't change the fact that it was _me_ doing it."

Relief washed over him like a wave. The Boy Wonder slowly shook his head, smile breaking through the anxiety. Just another misunderstanding. More serious maybe, but things weren't as they appeared. Phantom continued to flip through the file, avoiding the gazes directed his way.

"I don't have anything on the rest of these... I mean, the ghost fights caused a lot of property damage but I tried to keep them away from the town. I definitely don't go out breaking things for fun." He frowned, "Other than that, I can't hypnotise people, Aragon's the only one I know who's ever taken a human captive and ghosts don't eat souls."

Batman evaluated the spirit. "And there have been no other incidents?"

"Apart from the ghost attacks? No..." Phantom's face fell slightly, brushing a hand distractedly over his hair.

"What?"

"It's just... When we were on the run..." His eyes darted to the Dark Knight. "We didn't unless we had to... and if we could we left money, but sometimes we... couldn't get things the proper way... or we had to go places that we weren't allowed."

"Such as the false licence."

Phantom sighed, dipping his chin in resignation. "I'm not proud of it." It was clear that the admission pained the teen but Batman appreciated his desire to be honest. A way of making up for the many nights of half-remarks and cryptic answers. And allowances could be made for extenuating circumstances. The Dark Knight would never condone illegal activity but there was an obvious difference between the people who broke the law for petty reasons and those who did things that they otherwise wouldn't in order to survive. He surveyed the concrete vault. With his powers it would have been easy for Phantom to take up residence in an owned locker rather than renting one.

"That's a different situation. Desperate times..."

The ghost blinked at the elder hero. His shoulders straightened, gratitude making its way onto his face as he gave the duo a small, relieved smile. He rifled through the papers a final time, stacking them neatly before offering them back to the Dark Knight.

"So, was there anything else?"

"Why were you in Portland?" It was something that Robin had wondered about since the ghost re-appeared in their lives.

"That was a huge coincidence. I'd been going southeast and needed to change direction before they started getting ahead of me." Phantom shrugged. "My ghost-sense went off – figured I'd find out what it was." He shook his head disbelievingly. "Who knew."

"What happened to the creatures?" The fate of the perpetrators had been one of Batman's principle concerns upon learning they had escaped the Team.

The spectre glanced his way. "Spectra and Bertrand? They're gone. A natural portal opened up, so I dumped them back into the Ghost Zone."

"How likely is it that they'll return?"

"Not very." Phantom frowned. "I mean, they'll try, but without the Fenton Portal it'll be hard for them to get across. They won't be back for a while."

The Dark Knight nodded, the mention of the name bringing up another, more difficult question. "Fenton Works." Two detonations involving the same family already flagged the investigation. The presence of a survivor raised both hopes and concerns. Phantom stiffened slightly at the words, rubbing the crook of his arm.

"What about it?" His voice was carefully controlled.

"We were wondering what really happened." Robin delivered the query as gently as he could.

White-gloved fingers tangled in the snowy fringe. "It... we..." the ghost took a breath, shaking himself. "We needed to disappear. All of us and everything Fenton as well." A small spark of hope flared in the Boy Wonder's chest. They had considered a targeted attack, but if the destruction of the business had been set up to cover the teen's tracks...

"I take it that Jasmine, Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley went with you." Batman had recognised the same possibility. Phantom's head dipped in a slow nod, lines tightening around his mouth.

"So then..." now that the option was there Robin couldn't let it go, "If you all got out. Are they...?"

The ghost shook his head. "They..." A ripple passed down his throat as he swallowed, "a lot's... happened... since then." His fingers bit into his arm, clenching his jaw as shoulders curled inward. Phantom fixed his gaze on a point beyond the heroes, eyes burning with a broken look that was horribly familiar. A sympathetic pang gripped the Boy Wonder's chest as he watched the ghost blink rapidly. Green eyes closed briefly, face settling into a well-constructed semblance of calm as he drew a long breath. No other explanations were required.

"I'm sorry." Batman and Bruce Wayne spoke together.

Phantom's mouth twitched weakly, rubbing his face with a mumbled, "What for?" False bravado perhaps, but the Dark Knight couldn't help but be impressed by the teen's outward control. It may not have been complete – jagged edges lingered in his eyes – but on the surface Phantom appeared to be holding together.

Robin's eyes drifted back to the teen's right glove. "Wait," he remembered. "Could I borrow your hand for a moment?" Confusion marked the spirit's expression but he complied, offering his palm to the young detective. The Boy Wonder gripped the cold, ethereal wrist, lifting a small canister from his belt. The arm suddenly slipped out of his grasp, Phantom eyeing the cylinder warily.

"What are you doing?"

"Just trust me." He caught the bony limb again, ignoring his mentor's slight disapproval as he doused the hand liberally with the contents. The ghost studied the wetness on his glove for a moment before turning the appendage translucent. Robin reached into another pocket, pressing a small circular device into the now-dry fist as it returned to tangibility. Phantom regarded it curiously, levelling a questioning glance at the Boy Wonder.

"What was that about?"

"The spray was a solvent-"

"For?" The ghost raised an eyebrow.

Robin sighed. "For the tracer gel I tagged you with. What?" he defended, noticing the spirit's suddenly narrowed eyes, "We needed to talk to you, and you didn't look like you were going to stick around."

"And this?" Phantom held up the new device, a faint note of suspicion colouring his tone.

"A different type of locator – in case you need to get in touch. More secure signal. Plus I figured you'd prefer not to have the tag on you." The ghost turned the tracking device over with a frown.

"We understand your reluctance to carry a tracer, but we'd appreciate it if you held onto it. Rest assured the beacon can only be accessed by us." He nodded slowly, slipping the coin-sized piece of technology into a concealed pocket.

Quiet rolled into the vault, conversation breaking for the first time that evening. Phantom took a half step back from the heroes, shooting the Bat a nervous glance. Robin blinked as pale rings washed over the teen again, reverting his cloth and colours.

"So," Fenton watched them cautiously, voice thinner in the absence of the spectral echo, "what now?"

What now indeed. Batman regarded the boy, taking in his clothes, the shadowy bareness of the vault, the events that had, and were occurring outside of the concrete walls.

"We have some things to consider." The situation needed to change, but the change needed to happen properly. To be thought through, weighed up to choose the best option. The Dark Knight wasn't going to gamble someone's future on a snap decision. "How long can you continue to be here?"

Danny scratched the back of his neck. "I should have left two days ago." Batman frowned behind the cowl, feeling the schedule push forward.

"Can you stay another night?"

"I can try..." his eyes were concerned, "after that I'll have to move though."

Twenty-four hours. Not as much time as the Dark Knight would have liked, but hopefully enough to come up with a solution. Now that the idea had struck him, Bruce wasn't going to let it go. He knew from experience how hard a road, how _unhealthy_ a road, the lone wolf act could be. Daniel Fenton was obviously capable, a survivor, but it didn't change the fact that he was only fifteen. Age might be little more than a number in their game, but the kid needed a support network, some semblance of safety to fall back on. And with ghosts a very real – if rare – threat, Phantom's knowledge and skills would make him a valuable ally... if he could be persuaded to work with them.

The Bat nodded.

"It's possible that we may be able to help each other."

* * *

 **Okay, this was a _long_ chapter. I think it's about twice as long as average... then again, there was a lot to say. I know a fair chunk of it was just DP canon but it was necessary DP canon - and hopefully still fun to read.**

 **Again, I want to thank you for all the awesome reviews on the last chapter! And now my friends, fans and followers I was hoping for a little help. I have the overarching plot prepped and relatively clear but I need some small missions for the team to run as a way of bridging the story arcs together. I'm having some difficulty with inspiration so if you have some small-time DC villains or self-contained shots that you'd like to see please PM me. Bonus points if you can come up with a mission/scenario that has some team members travelling on a train.**

 **In other news, I've actually reached the complete end of all the pre-structured, pre-drafted chapters. I'm going from scratch for each piece from here out, which means that updates will likely take a bit longer (as you may have already noticed). I know I've been averaging weekly but the truth is I had rough drafts up to chapter 9 before I even started posting. It takes 2-4 weeks to write a good-length chapter completely from plan to polish, especially as things get more complex.**

 **If you want more YJ:DW between updates, I have a DeviantArt profile. I don't post there a lot but occasionally I make some accompanying art as a way of circumnavigating the trap known as writer's block. My username is RedMoonWhiteTiger if you feel like checking it out.**

 **Thanks again for continuing to read and review.**

 **See you next time!**

 **-3WD**


	14. Chapter 13: Propositions

**Chapter 13: Propositions**

Empty.

The storage unit was _empty_.

Finding the door locked had been a bad sign, but Robin was prepared to write it off as precautionary behaviour. Now though... the young detective stalked away from his mentor, moving to the corner usually occupied by the teen. _Nothing_. Not even Danny's bags were there. Part of him hoped that that it was some kind of twisted prank. That the ghost was just invisible and intangible – a practical joke in spectacularly bad taste. The Boy Wonder paced the locker, searching for cold spot, electricity... a pointless exercise, he knew. They didn't have enough knowledge or experience with spirits to be able to detect one outside of conventional methods. Besides... call it a 'sixth sense' but there was a difference between a room with someone in it and one that was empty. Apart from the shadowy presence of Batman somewhere behind him the vault _felt_ deserted. Robin snapped on the holo-screen, activating the thermal scan. Two readings. He tapped into the frequency of the new tracer. No signal. Wherever Danny was, he was human and he _wasn't_ here. The young detective tilted his wrist, turning the display towards his mentor.

 _"I should have left two days ago."_ The memory whispered in the back of their minds, threading unease through the Boy Wonder's gut. He glanced up, seeing concern mirrored in the Dark Knight's frown. Every night was a gamble for the ghost. High stakes, dwindling odds. Their request for one more could have been one too many. If something had happened... Batman examined the concrete. Unmarked, no scuffing, no obvious signs of a struggle but... the elder hero drew an ultraviolet light from his belt, carefully running the bluish beam over the floor. Aside from a few small flecks in the corner where the teen slept there were no dark spots, nothing to indicate bloodshed. The Dark Knight dropped to a crouch, dragging a glove across the concrete. He rubbed the grit between his fingers, lifting the hand to his nose. No scent of solvents or other chemicals that could have been used to scrub away evidence. So then...

"Door seems fine." Robin darted back from the entrance as Batman rose to his feet. "No signs of forcing. Lock looks normal as well." The younger detective's brow furrowed. "Do you think someone...?"

"If they did, it was clean." The Dark Knight frowned. "Very clean." The attack – had there been one – had to have been fast. Phantom wouldn't have gone quietly and, from what he'd read of the ghost's powers, Batman doubted he would have been easy to subdue in a fight. A confrontation would definitely have left marks. Which meant the culprits had to have struck before teen had a chance to respond. His eyes narrowed. With Daniel's high vigilance and enhanced senses it seemed unlikely that the boy could be caught so completely off guard. Even less so that he would vanish without a trace. A fight was the most _probable_ scenario, but the lack of evidence was rapidly pointing towards another, more disturbing, explanation.

"It's possible..."

The Boy Wonder bit his lip, hearing the unspoken end of the statement. Yes, it was. The chances were slim, but Danny could have left willingly. The question was, _why_? Danger might have forced the halfa to relocate – but if that was the case, wouldn't he have contacted them? Left a note? Signalled them somehow? It didn't make sense for the teen to just disappear. Unless... there was another option, one Robin really didn't want to have to consider. An option he couldn't bring himself to believe. Phantom had saved them from Spectra. He'd continued to stay each night, had answered their questions, had shown them his powers. The teen hadn't even wanted to _talk_ them at first – except that suddenly he had. Except that now he _knew_ things about them that almost no one did. The kind of information that was hugely valuable on the other side. Was it possible that...

"Sorry."

The duo started, hands dropping to belts as they whipped to face the voice. Green eyes shone hazily from the shadows of a deep hood, a transparent figure sliding silently through the wall. Danny glanced over his shoulder before pulling down the jacket's cowl, colours solidifying as the ectoplasmic glow faded to its usual blue. He looked briefly at the door, meeting the scrutinising glares with an apologetic expression.

"Where were you?" The accusation in the Dark Knight's voice was barely concealed.

"I..." He swallowed audibly, "Someone was following me." A breath hissed silently through Robin's teeth. "I ditched them eventually, but it took a while to get back." His eyes darted to the entrance again, tracing an anxious path through the sharpened air. The Boy Wonder unconsciously mimicked the action, scanning the already cleared walls. Whelming as it was to see the ghost unharmed and on their side, the news brought a _much_ larger problem.

"Did you manage to get a good look at whoever it was? Can you describe them?"

The teen rubbed the back of his neck, "Not sure. He was... tall-ish. Brown hair. Blue jacket. Wore a baseball cap. Didn't seem too old... thirties maybe?" He shook his head, "I don't know. Sorry."

"Did he have any distinguishing features?" The young detective committed the description to memory, "Tattoos, scars, any injuries, that sort of thing?"

"I really couldn't tell you." Danny fiddled with the zip of his jacket, "I only caught a couple of glances. Didn't exactly hang around to find out. Not worth the risk."

Batman pressed his lips together. "Talk us through what happened."

"Right. Um..." The teen frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I went out to get some things. Supplies were getting low – figured I should top up before moving."

"Where are your bags?" Robin suddenly registered the absence of packages from the older boy's person.

Danny blinked at him. "Oh. That. If I could just..." he slipped past the duo, moving to a patch of cement that seemed just as unremarkable as the rest. Green flared in the teen's eyes as he sank to a crouch, plunging a translucent arm through the ground. The limb vanished to the elbow, oblivious to the duo's faint shock as he rooted around below the slab. A strap emerged, black sports bag coming to the surface. The bulk of the traveller's pack quickly followed. "There's a space under the floor," he explained as he set them aside. "I leave them there when I'm going out."

"You were saying?" prompted the elder hero.

"... So I went to get supplies," The halfling refocussed, wiping palms distractedly on his jeans. "There's a convenience store a few miles from here. Bit of a walk but," he shrugged. "I was almost there when... you know that feeling you get – like you're being watched? I changed direction, went a couple of streets over, came back a different way..." his eyes flicked to the door again, "couldn't shake it. After that I started moving. Tried to go with the crowd, stick to public places – too many people for anyone to try anything. First saw him around then."

"The man you described?"

The older boy dipped his chin in confirmation. "I think... I remember cutting through a park. I kept looking for somewhere to turn invisible, but there were always cameras or people around or he was too close–" he broke off sharply, shaking his head. "A bunch of kids were getting on a bus and I managed to get on with them. Lost him after that. Found somewhere quiet to disappear and... hid," embarrassment coloured the word, "until it felt safe. Headed back once it started to get dark." Robin saw his fingers quiver before they were buried in the pocket of the hoodie.

"What time did this happen?" Batman honed in on the details. A battered watch was revealed as the teen pulled back his sleeve.

"I left here around... one o'clock, I think. So I guess it might have been two-ish? Maybe a bit before."

"Can you identify the route you took? Would you be able to name any landmarks?" Danny's gaze drifted up and to the left, fidgeting his left cuff into place as he frowned.

"I don't know. I'd probably recognise the names if I heard them... might be able to point them out..." he bit his lip, nose wrinkling in frustration. "I was too focussed on the other guy to notice much."

Doors shook, metal rattling on their tracks. The teen flinched, dropping halfway into a fighter's stance as he skittered back, wide eyes snapping to entrance. The sound came again, this time accompanied by a low hum. A rush of air brushed against the Boy Wonder's ankles. Wind. It was just the wind. For a moment Danny stood frozen, locked in frightened rigidity before shoulders slumped, joints loosening as his face dropped into his hand. Something that could have been a weak laugh or shaky breath escaped, sarcastic mutter muffled by his palm. He ran the hand jerkily through his hair, inhaling deeply as he forced himself to relax out of the tense lines. Robin unclenched white knuckles inside his glove.

"I- look," the older boy shivered slightly, "I can't stay here anymore. Maybe today was just some regular creep, but _they're_ here." The Boy Wonder didn't need to ask who he meant by 'they'. "I can feel it. I don't know how," he shook his head, "but they're here. In town. I need to leave."

"Do you have a plan?" Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but the Dark Knight was curious as to what the teen would do.

"Not really." Blue eyes turned calculating, "Don't want to leave the country, so... probably head south again. California... San Diego maybe? Find a new city to disappear." Danny rubbed the side of his face, sending them an imploring look, "If you still have questions... I mean, I don't want to run out on you, so if there's somewhere you wanted me to go...?"

"Actually," Robin surprised the older boy with a cheeky grin. He glanced up at his mentor, "we were hoping to talk to you about that."

* * *

"You're kidding." The words tumbled out almost before they finished speaking. Danny seemed to realise what he said, ears flushing pink as he clamped his mouth shut.

Batman raised an eyebrow. "We don't 'kid'." The flush darkened, gaze dropping to the floor. He looked back up with stunned incredulity.

"You want me to live... with you?" Robin nodded. Confusion twisted the older boy's features, "...Why?"

"Why not?" countered the Boy Wonder.

The response earned him a flat look. "But," Danny frowned, "isn't that really dangerous?"

Robin supposed he had a point. Even senior League members avoided Gotham where they could. Although, "We're not asking you to come on patrols. Just to stay."

The teen shook his head, "That's not what... I mean, there are people after me. If they connect me to you..."

"Precautions can be taken against that." The Dark Knight was well-aware of the risks. "Our headquarters and... residences... are well-defended against the use of surveillance and tracking equipment. You would not be making public appearances. We can devise additional strategies as necessary." Concern slowly began to fade, the look of puzzlement refusing to leave. He appraised the duo with questioning hesitancy.

"Okay but... why? Not that I'm not grateful," he added quickly, "but two weeks ago you didn't even know me." There were, Batman realised, any number of answers for that question. They'd considered a multitude of factors; protection, education, opportunity, publicity, age, skill, experience... and many less rational, more personal reasons. The Dark Knight settled on the most logically sound argument.

"You need somewhere safe to go. Staying out in the open is no longer an option – what nearly happened today should make that clear. Arranging protection through the League would require us to make a number of other people fully aware of your situation and status – something we assume you would prefer to avoid. You already know our civilian identities..." Robin's neck prickled. He fought the urge to squirm, feeling the disapproving gaze bore into his back. It may have been the point that sealed their decision, but Batman's reaction to the revelation had been... well, _underwhelmed_ was putting it lightly. Time constraints had spared an immediate reprimand but the Boy Wonder knew he was soon to be treated to a stern – and largely one-sided – discussion in which the words 'reckless decision', 'unacceptable risk', 'potential repercussions' and 'suspension of privileges' would no doubt feature heavily.

"...and we need your help," the young detective took over, moving swiftly away from the topic. Surprise flitted across the older boy's face. "Supervillians, criminals, aliens... we know how to deal with those things. But we don't know ghosts. Not the way you do." Danny made a small noise, glancing away self-consciously. "We can't fight them the way we normally would. Spectra wiped the floor with us when we tried," Robin winced internally. "We need someone who knows their strengths and weaknesses. Someone who knows how to stop them, to contain them... someone who can handle this properly." The teen's ears were scarlet by the time the Boy Wonder finished. He coughed, shuffling his feet as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"And you think that's... me?" A hidden spark of pride played behind the uncertainty.

Batman regarded the boy calmly. "You're the most reliable source we known." Danny ducked his head again, lips twitching into a small smile. "Consider this a probation – a trial period. If it doesn't work we can make other arrangements."

The smile faded, becoming solemn once more as the teen considered. He ran a hand down the side of his face. They could almost see the gears turning, the consequences being weighed up. Fear. Safety. Loneliness. Trust. Hope. Despair. Familiar danger, uncertain opportunity. The devil he knew or the one he didn't. Danny flicked the heroes a cautious glance.

"You're sure about this?"

"Like I said before," Robin braved his mentor's displeasure, sending the older boy a tiny smirk, "we wouldn't have offered if we weren't."

The halfa exhaled, fingers raking through dark bangs before travelling down to scratch absently at his neck. The hand moved to his brow, small creases appearing as a thumb and forefinger rubbed his temples. His head shook slowly – but not in negation. Disbelief marked his features; wry, slightly dazed amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. Danny set his shoulders, resolution finding its way onto his face as the hand dropped back to his side. Their watchful gazes were met with equal parts excitement, wariness and acceptance.

"Okay. I'm in."

The Boy Wonder's smirk broadened into a full grin. Everything was about to change, he could feel it. Almost tangible – a near-imperceptible shift in the way the world turned. A faint sense of vertigo seized him. It would all be different... but in some ways exactly the same. Robin kept the smile as friendly as he could manage, trying to put a voice to the jumbled mess of exhilaration and apprehension. The Dark Knight intercepted him before he could speak.

"And _you're_ sure?" There was a half beat pause before Danny nodded. "Then the details can wait. We can finish this once we're somewhere more secure." Batman tilted a hand towards the exit.

As the teen stooped to gather his bags, the young detective surveyed the locker's oppressive greyness for what he hoped was the final time. A creature of the night he may be, but at heart the acrobat was still a bird and – while certainly no stranger to even tighter corners – he was grateful for the wider spaces of their usual haunts. The concrete box would _not_ be missed. Robin shifted onto the balls of his feet, suddenly eager to be gone.

Danny tightened the last of the pack straps, shouldering their sizeable awkwardness with practiced ease. The vault's key was fished from a pocket, hood raised to shade his face as he fell in step behind the Bat's protégé. The now trio padded carefully into the openness of the night, teen's footsteps ever so slightly louder in the wake of two trained shadows. A thought pulled at the Boy Wonder. A ghost. They were bringing a _ghost_. To the _Batcave_. Robin groaned silently.

As if Wally needed any more ammunition for bad jokes.

* * *

 **Merry Christmas! I thought it might be fitting to get the latest instalment up today, it being the season of giving and all.**

 **...and we're finally moving out of the locker. Robin might be in a lot of trouble, but I fully agree with his sentiments regarding the place** **\- even _I'm_ fed up with concrete walls by now. Superheroes or not there's only so much narrative you can create from 3 people standing in a box. ****Next chapter we'll have the characters interacting with actual objects. Possibly even other characters. Imagine that!**

 **Still looking for bridging mission ideas. I've filled most of the blanks but still digging for one or two scenarios. Thanks to all the people who've reviewed or PMed with suggestions already. Let me know if there's something you'd like to see.**

 **Reviews are always appreciated. I'd love to hear what you think of their latest misadventure.**

 **Buon Natale & Happy New Year!**

 **Until next time,**

 **-3WD**


	15. Chapter 14: Constants

**Chapter 14: Constants**

The thin glow coming from beneath the door lit his silent approach. He carefully pushed it open, panel swinging smoothly on well-oiled hinges.

"Danny?"

A smirk tugged Dick's mouth at the older boy's jump. It was immature, he knew, but there was a certain childish pleasure to be had in startling the ghost. For days he'd been 'experimenting' with the perceptive range of the manor's newest resident. It had become something of a game, trying to see how close he could get before being detected. Danny gave him a small grin, shaking his head ruefully.

"Late night?"

"Not really." Routine more than anything was keeping him awake. A standing ban on all patrols, casework, team activities and any training deemed 'non-essential' ensured that the bird had _plenty_ of free time. But, while the added sleep was hardly something to complain about, there were only so many hours his nocturnal conditioning could take. The teen's room had become an inevitable stop on the subsequent after-dark wanderings. Though, when he thought about it, having the same body clock as a semi-undead fugitive might not be the healthiest of signs.

In truth, the acrobat wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about his new housemate. Yes, he'd been the one to push the suggestion; yes, the manor was big and occasionally empty; yes, there were times when he'd entertained the idea of having someone else with him on the days when Bruce was away on business and Alfred was busy - but there was also a part that he wasn't convinced he _could_ share. Their secret night lives, swinging from the tallest building, stopping crimes, working in the cave... that had all been his. Sure, Wally and a few others knew the full story, but really it had just been the three of them. Him and Bruce and Alfred. That was it. And, much as Dick Grayson liked new friends, a small part of _Robin_ wanted it to stay that way.

But, as in all things, change had come. There'd been very little fanfare; no public announcements, none of the media storm that had surrounded his own addition to the Wayne household. To the rest of the world Daniel Fenton was dead and, with Phantom's hunters still at large, it was best that the declaration remained uncontested. Instead the ghost had moved quietly into one of the more unobtrusive guest rooms, a smallish space along what was once the servants' wing. The whole thing had been mercifully simple; an extra presence in the halls, a fourth plate on the table at mealtimes, a new voice that occasionally joined the conversation and merged training sessions from twos to threes. It wasn't entirely plain sailing – potential dangers, ghostly powers and a messy past all had to be navigated – but overall the transition had been... easy. Well, at least, easier than he expected. Thanks in no small part to Danny himself.

Dick opened the door widely, moving to stand next to the teen at the desk that occupied most of one wall. Not for the first time the acrobat was aware of his shorter-than-average size – at almost two years older Danny stood more than a foot taller than he did. He appraised his companion from the corner of his eye. If they'd passed in the street he mightn't have recognised the person beside him as the same one who'd accompanied them back from the locker. A haircut, a few solid meals and a couple of decent nights' sleep had made a staggering improvement to the halfa's appearance. Danny seemed to notice the silent assessment, glancing his way with questioning concern. He quickly dropped his gaze to the papers on the table. A mix of research articles and blueprints, all bearing a familiar ghost-shaped watermark.

"New project?"

"Sort of..." The teen lifted a stack of pages. "I was thinking it might be a good idea to build a ghost sensor. Like a warning system – in case anything comes too close."

"Sounds like a plan," the acrobat studied the diagram. Defence against spectral entities was high on their priority list. Shields were the most obvious solution but large-scale ecto-outputs apparently had a very distinctive signature. A new system coming online was almost _guaranteed_ to catch the ear of every hunter in range. On the other hand, detectors and tracers were supposed to register on the same scale as everyday tech' and, with a little tweaking, _might_ be able to pass as standard surveillance equipment. The advanced notice would be a huge advantage – possibly their biggest until they found a way to silence the footprint from larger devices.

"Yeah, but..." Danny frowned, tapping a pencil on the sheet in front of him.

"Problem?"

He sighed, rubbing the edge of his jaw. "More of a pain really. It was designed to go off whenever it detected _any_ ghostly energy. Doesn't matter if it's Pariah Dark, the Box Ghost..." he rolled his eyes, "this thing could go panic stations over an _ectopus_."

"And _you_ , I'm guessing."

The halfa made a face as he nodded. "Not when I'm human – so I guess whatever's up there doesn't hate me completely – but yeah, I'm not getting anywhere _near_ this in ghost-mode. Even using my powers too much can trigger it."

"Figure that one out the hard way?" the acrobat raised an all-too-innocent eyebrow.

"Let's just say it was a good thing my parents had a symposium that weekend." Dick snickered quietly. The answering grin froze on Danny's face, gaze losing focus slightly as his hand stopped over the Fenton Works logo.

"So, is there a fix?" the bird cut in, hoping to draw the teen out of whatever memory he'd fallen into. He could guess where it would lead - neither of them needed to go there tonight.

"Maybe." It was with relief that he watched the blue eyes clear. Danny pulled out two more schematics, lining them up with the first. "This," he traced the lines on one diagram, "was meant to measure how powerful a ghost's energy was, and this one," he moved to the other, "is supposed to record and remember their unique ecto-signature." The teen rubbed his neck thoughtfully. "Not sure if they ever actually used that..." he shook his head. "Anyway, if we can couple them up..."

"...we'll be able to tell how strong they are, if we've seen them before and whether they're a threat." Dick leaned forward, scanning the pages intently. The idea was _definitely_ worth considering. ' _Heavy on the aster_...' and not just for them either. If Danny could get it to work...

"Basically yes," the older boy smiled at his enthusiasm. " _And_ we should be able to set it to ignore me. Maybe even figure out a system for the others – a way to tell the friendly guys from the dangerous ones, something like that." He squinted at the writing on the blueprint, scribbling a few marks and a line of messy cursive underneath.

"Okay, I'm officially whelmed." The word earned him a look of resigned amusement. "Seriously though, this could be big. You should run it by B' next time you see him. Oh come on," the bird grinned at the uncertainty on teen's face, "he's not _that_ scary." Having someone with first-hand knowledge was a significant asset, even if Batman didn't say so out loud. Ecto-technology was complex and, while they probably could have figured it out on their own, it would have taken years to handle it with the same born-and-bred familiarity that Danny did. The halfa gave a small cough, rolling his shoulders as he turned away from the table.

"So... what's new with you?"

"Not much," the acrobat shrugged. His current grounded status was making sure of that. "What about you? Have you," he lowered his voice, "made any progress?" _Technically_ he wasn't supposed to ask. _Robin_ had officially been taken off of all investigations and, after how badly he'd broken rule number one, it was best not to push his luck. Then again, it wasn't like he could be in any _more_ trouble where Phantom's case was concerned.

"No," the halfa sighed tiredly. "Batman tried something with the... traffic cameras, I _think_. He got video from that day – you know, when I was being chased." Dick nodded. With the number of cameras being installed in public places he'd be more surprised if they _didn't_ get a visual.

"Did you manage to...?"

Danny shook his head. "No dice. I mean, we've got the guy on tape but you can't really see his face. He's either not looking or the picture's bad and the stupid hat's in the way the rest of the time. Batman took some stills, so _maybe_ he found something...? No idea what though. Apparently there are _way_ too many brown-haired thirty-something-year-olds in the criminal underworld." He brushed a hand through his recently-cut fringe, looking almost as disappointed as the acrobat felt.

"Hey," Dick nudged the elder boy's arm, "don't sweat it. We'll find him, alright? We just need to look in other places." An absent nod was the only response. The bird trailed into silence, picking at the edge of the table as his eyes wandered the room.

"Are you settling in okay?" There hadn't been much of an attempt to personalise the space. No move to claim the area, nothing that gave a sense of the resident. Not that the Danny had brought a lot with him. Outside of a handful of chipped, well-travelled pieces of ghost hunting equipment and a bundle of taped-together flash drives containing what seemed like the entire digital history of Fenton Works, the boy's worldly possessions boiled down to a few sets of clothes, a blanket, the standard first-aid-come-survival kit and an odd collection of eclectic, somewhat random items that Dick guessed he kept for sentimental reasons. But despite several offers from himself and Alfred to help with decorating, the teen seemed content to leave the room just as plain as it had been before he arrived.

"Yeah. I'm... good." A strange, almost melancholic note belied the words. Danny glanced away from the questioning look, hand lifting to the back of his neck. He sighed apologetically, "It's just... it's _weird_ , you know. Staying in one place. Not having to figure out where to go next..." He chuckled weakly, "Not like I didn't do that for fourteen years or anything. It's weird that it _feels_ weird. Not having secrets..." His fingers rested on the desktop, eyes focussed on something far away. "I don't know, I guess I just... figured I'd always be running. Until they quit, or I ended up in the Ghost Zone with Dani or got... caught. But this? Here? Now? Everything..." the teen snorted suddenly, shaking his head. "Okay, I'm officially not making sense. I'll stop." He tucked his chin, peering sideways at the acrobat with a smile that was sheepish and more than slightly embarrassed.

Dick nodded, pretending not to notice the moment of near-vulnerability. Much as the teen's appearance had improved, the half-guarded look was all too familiar. Though he didn't need to think very hard to understand the cause. Life at the manor _could_ take a bit of getting used to. He wouldn't exactly call it the epitome of a warm family home. And even if it had been... things weren't going to magically fix themselves overnight. As much as they trusted each other to have their back, as far as he could search through the records, the facts didn't change. A month ago they had barely known the other existed. A fortnight ago they had been potential threats, a witness and his pursuers. A week ago they were strangers. In a lot of ways they still were. It wasn't really surprising that Danny chose to keep a comfortable distance; that he'd hold his problems close to his chest. There were certainly things from his own past that Dick wasn't lining up to share yet. So when a small voice urged him to push for details he squashed it. It went against his instinct but right now chasing answers was the worst thing he could do.

"No, I get it. It can be... strange" He kept his gaze fixed on the blueprints, feeling the teen shuffle beside him. "All very new and intimidating..." With an impish glance the bird changed tack, "A billionaire and a gypsy - not exactly what you were expecting, huh?" A startled cough cracked the gloom. Dick's grin broadened, giving Danny's shoulder a playful push as he continued, "No skulls, no crypts, no blood sacrifices - you must be _so_ disappointed." The older boy rolled his eyes, victory flaring as a snicker slipped past his guard. The acrobat's tone softened slightly, "You'll get used to it, I promise." He leaned his weight into the bench, moving away from sore subjects with a speculative look. "You know..." he tapped his chin in mock-contemplation, "a little bird told me that B's going to be away on business for the next few days. And the makers of _Doomed_ released a new game last month..."

"Whatever it is that you're planning Master Dick, I would advise waiting until you're more firmly in his good graces." Subtle tension rippled through the half-ghost as both boys turned to face the door. Dick offered a small smile, the silhouette resolving itself into the efficiently genteel grace of an Englishman.

"Hi Alfred." A second, quieter greeting sounded from the teen beside him.

"Good evening young sirs."

The acrobat titled his head, "Is everything alright?" While it normal for the butler to be up just as late - if not later - than they were, he rarely chose to seek them out once they were in their rooms. Unless there was a problem. He knew he shouldn't, but Dick would be lying to say a small part of him didn't hope it signalled some serious Batman-related issue for which _Robin_ 's presence would be urgently required.

"Everything's fine sir." From the glimmer in Alfred's eye, the Englishman knew exactly where his thoughts had been. "I simply happened to notice that your room was empty," he watched the pair with fond sternness, "and wondered if I might find you here." If the butler had heard their previous conversation he gave no sign of it.

The bird shrugged it away, "What else is there to do at night?"

An eyebrow was elegantly raised. "Many would consider sleep an ideal pastime at this hour. Speaking of which," Alfred coughed lightly, gaze turning vaguely pointed, "it is quite late and need I remind you that you do have school in the morning." Dick dipped his head, conceding with a silent sigh. Sadly _that_ 'duty' did not fall onto his list of restricted activities. "And while Master Daniel cannot attend with you he does have his own studies to keep up." The acrobat kept his eyes forward, holding back a sympathetic grimace as red tinged the halfa's ears. Danny's education - or nearly two year lack thereof - was a slight point of shame for the older boy. Although, in Dick's opinion, the ghost had a _fairly_ solid excuse for his lack of classwork. Himself on the other hand...

"I guess you're right," he stretched, raising his arms. "It's hard enough to stay awake in calculus on a good day."

"Indeed." The eyebrow climbed higher. The Englishman paused, drawing a pocket watch from his vest. He consulted it briefly. "If I'm not mistaken, Master Bruce should be finishing his 'errands' within the next hour or two. I believe it would help your case if you were to be seen at least attempting some rest before then."

"Mmm. Point." Tempting though it might be, he knew haunting the study clock for his guardian's return wasn't going to work. No amount of wheedling or bribery would get him back onto cases before his 'sentence' had been served. Besides, if Bats wasn't going to be back for another two hours... he might be awake now but being found asleep on the desk probably wouldn't help the 'responsible partner' argument. His nose itched as if to support the statement, a small yawn working its way past his hand. Alfred afforded him a wry glance, amusement playing about the butler's mouth as his attention shifted to the older boy.

"Master Daniel?" Dick noticed the faint softening of his voice, the familiar tone calling back to his first few weeks in the manor. Strange nostalgia swept his thoughts as the halfa straightened to watch the butler with polite curiosity. "I was planning to bring it up over breakfast, but on the off-chance... As you know, Master Bruce has been called to deal with a... rather unavoidable situation at one of his companies. He's scheduled to leave the day after tomorrow."

A careful nod. "I know." Faint anxiety touched the teen's face, Danny seeming to hesitate before asking, "Is my... Is there going to be a problem?"

"Not at all," the Englishman raised a reassuring hand. "However preparations may keep us quite busy. I expect it won't be necessary, but would you be willing to continue your work unsupervised if needed?"

"Oh," the teen blinked, expression clearing. "Yeah. Sure. Of course."

"Very good sir." Alfred twinkled kindly at him. "If there's anything you need...?"

Dick glanced up at his companion, noting the slight, shy smile as Danny shook his head. "I think we're good. Thanks Alfred."

"Then, I suppose I shall see you both in the morning." Perhaps it was his imagination, but the acrobat could have sworn he heard a mild warning directed his way. ' _Note to self - make sure alarm clock is set._ ' "Goodnight sirs."

"Goodnight Alfred."

"'Night."

Both teens were silent for a moment, listening to the footsteps that faded down the hall. Out of sheer habit the bird darted to the door, peering in the direction the Englishman had vanished. How Alfred managed to move so quickly and quietly without running was a mystery that had remained unsolved for the last five years. And probably always would. Paper rustled, drawing his attention back to the desk. Danny was rolling up the blueprints, building a pile at one end of the table. A second yawn fought for escape as he watched the halfa gather the rest of the pages into stacks. Bed suddenly looked a lot more appealing.

"I should probably head off."

The older boy sighed, dropping the last of his work onto the mound. "Yeah, probably." He ruffled his hair, glancing at the acrobat with crooked smirk. "Wouldn't want you to miss school or anything."

"That _would_ be tragic," Dick grinned right back. Classes could be a bit of a drag - at least compared to doing the applied versions under gunfire - but there were a lot of reasons to like Gotham Academy. Babs and Artemis to name two, even if the latter was still unaware of his 'connections'. Though in some ways that made it more fun. "See you in the morning?"

"'Night dude."

Light followed the bird on his way, shrinking to a thin shaft that flickered out as he padded down the hall. He glanced over his shoulder, oddly aware of the person moving to sleep in the room behind him. Having someone else in the loop was... different. Strange and new and not altogether unpleasant. It was still early days, risks to be taken, prices to be paid but he was surprised by how much he was actually enjoying it. Then again, it had been much the same when he first met Wally. And later Kaldur and Roy, founding the team, meeting Artemis, Raquel, Zatanna... who knew, this might just work out. And the rest - well he could figure that out tomorrow.

Change was one of life's constants, right?

* * *

 **Okay, so slightly slow and maybe a bit of a fluff chapter, but I felt I** **at least** **needed to let you know what the new Batman/Robin/Phantom situation was. Originally tried to stuff the same info into some hideous 2-paragraph thing in an early draft... suffice to say this is a much more elegant solution.**

 **This is the second-last chapter of Act I/Arc I of the story. The next chapter will deal with some Danny stuff and the main plot begins to roll after that. And yes there will be Danny-team interaction and sparring and missions and other things that you've** **probably** **been waiting far too long for.**

 **While we're on the topic of updates, I unfortunately have to inform you that the time between them is going to stretch. I've recently got a job and this is also the year of my honours research project. Sadly, this means that I'm going to have less time to write, and the story will have to go on the backburner for a while. Note: I am NOT abandoning. Repeat: NOT ABANDONING. I fully intend to keep this going - because you're all awesome and I really like writing it! But these other things will affect my future so I need to give them priority. I respectfully ask you to be patient - don't freak if I disappear from your update list for a few months at a time. (That said I will still be checking emails so if you want to PM me I will try to get back to you.)**

 **Once again I would appreciate reviews. What do you think of Danny and Dick's relationship at the current time? Realistic? Believable? OOC? Feedback is both welcomed and craved.**

 **New story art piece is up on DeviantArt for those who are interested.**

 **See you next time!**

 **-3WD**


	16. Chapter 15: Roads to Safe Places

**Chapter 15: Roads to Safe Places**

 _He hesitated, handle cool against his skin as he closed the door. The night air swirled beneath his hood, tugging at his hair as he stared up at the building that had been the centre of his life. The bricks were dull in the moonlight, windows dark and empty. The Ops Centre perched on the roof, geometric, majestic in a whimsical ridiculousness that belied the reinforced steel and advanced weapons tech within. The start and end of so many misadventures. Creaks sounded from the orange and green arrow as it swayed in the gentle breeze, devoid of the neon light that had illuminated the town for almost as long as he could remember. It hung in darkness now. Just as it had for the last week. Ever since... He turned the key in the lock, eyes clinging to the scene like a drowning man to a plank of wood._

 _An invisible hand tugged at his sleeve._

 _"_ _Come on dude," his best friend's voice was a murmur in the silence, "we've gotta go."_

 _He nodded, the gesture going unseen as he adjusted his grip on Tucker's wrist, wrapping his powers more firmly around them. They moved to join a patch of empty air by the gate, the others entering their awareness as his influence melded with Dani's._

 _"_ _Is everyone ready? Got all the things you wanted? Have your ticket?" Jazz checked for the final time, receiving whispers of assent. "And... are we sure?" Her answer came in frightened eyes and nervous pauses._

 _"_ _Okay... then, let's go."_

 _They set off through the sleeping town, keeping to the shadows and alleyways, hands linked to share the protection of invisibility. Eyes darted to every corner, twitched at every movement. Danger lurked at the margins, breathing with small gusts that broke the stillness of the night. No words were spoken until they reached their destination. Far on the outskirts, at the edge of the highway, under the grimy light that announced the small bus stop. Their way out._

 _Tucker swallowed nervously as they flickered back into sight beneath the sign, pulling a small device from a pocket. It changed hands, green button accusatory under the dim light of the stars. He shivered, feeling the weight of the metal in his palm. The weight of the choice they were about to make, the terrible sacrifice needed for the plan to work. His thumb hovered over the circle. He looked to the eyes of his friends. Buried deep within hoods and behind dark glasses. Jazz's distinctive red hair tucked out of sight beneath her beanie. She reached for him, wrapping her hand around his, sharing in the responsibility. Sam, Tucker and Dani hesitantly joined them. As one they paused. Breathed in. Breathed out. Pressed down._

 _Even from far away they could hear the sound. Feel the shockwave that rumbled through the night, rousing the citizens of Amity Park from the depths of sleep. Voices began to drift on the winds, faint cries of alarm and panic reaching their ears. It was time to leave._

 _Twin lamps pierced the gloom as the bus arrived at the station. He shouldered his bags, refusing to look as he climbed aboard, presenting his ticket with the others. They pulled smoothly away, wheels carrying them into the unknown. He glanced out the window, the city already reduced to a shrinking silhouette on the horizon. Then it was gone, swallowed by the darkness of the night._

 _There was no turning back._

* * *

Blue eyes fluttered. He shifted against the weight of the vision, reality threading through the veil of dreams and memory, reeling him in by inches. For a moment rough cloth chafed his back, swaying and bumping with the curves of the road... no, wait. He was lying down, surrounded by softness. In bed. A motel? Probably not; it felt too comfortable, too _familiar_ for that. So then... where? He struggled to focus, blinking through the images of slick, winding pavement. The ceiling was dark and dim, empty of his constellations, his hanging models and posters and... too high somehow? He pushed himself blearily onto an elbow, trying to make sense of the rest of the room. Again, bigger than expected, oddly familiar. Moonlight peered weakly through a curtained window, throwing just enough brightness to make out the shape of a shelf, something that was probably a wardrobe, a couple of dark pieces hanging on the walls and... a desk maybe? He shook his head, forcing his befuddled brain into gear. The _where_ was sitting just out of reach, but maybe if he could work out _how_... A ghost. There'd been a ghost attack. People in danger and after that he'd run and... there'd been a locker. Someone had found him. No, not someone - _Batman_. Batman and Robin. Robin who was Dick and... Bruce...

Wayne Manor. He was in Wayne Manor. Amity Park was months and miles away.

Danny flopped back onto the mattress, ruffling his hair as he tried to rub the old ache away. Past and present had separated themselves but the memory burned, dredged up by his subconscious and shunted to the forefront of his mind. For a while he stared at the shadows, picking abstract shapes from the dark, before rolling onto his side, eyes closing in the hope of falling into better dreams. A black, moonlit highway rose to meet him. He jerked away, pulling the sheets higher as he turned over. A locked front door loomed over a once-known town. The halfa groaned, ducking under the covers to bury his face in the pillow. Wheels, alleyways, a pull towards a place that no longer existed. Like a train arriving at the station the vision rolled in, dragging with it a string of other moments, voices, people, places, old fears and gut-twisting worries he'd tried hard to leave on the road. Every bump and fold in the mattress amplified excruciatingly. He sighed in defeat, kicking off the blankets. Sleep was clearly a dead loss.

The half-ghost allowed his feet to hit the floor, padding across to the window. Fabric weighed against his back as he ducked under the drapes to peer outside. A dusting of snow lay over the secluded corner of the grounds, painted charcoal by the night. It had to be late. He slid back into the room, squinting at the hands of the clock. Correction - _early_. Sometime between three and four a.m. if he was reading it right. Late enough that everyone should be asleep, too soon to get up for training. He grumbled softly, unease driving him back to the other wall. Agitation curled in his gut, the memory refusing to leave his mind. 'Who's, 'why's and 'what if's prickled through his chest. He paced a circuit of the room. Then another. And another. The space seemed to shrink around him.

Carpet rustled underfoot at his abrupt stop, kneading his eyes with the heels of his hands. He dragged fingers resignedly through his fringe, resting his forehead on the wood of the door before twisting the handle, suddenly desperate to be out of the room. Eerie silence met him in the hall, quiet stillness rising from the length of dark corridor. He hesitated on the threshold, eyes flicking back inside before stepping out, shaking his head with a small sardonic noise. A dull hollowness gently squeezed his chest as crept down the passage. His throat was oddly tight. He felt... he wasn't really sure how he felt. He just... needed some air. Some water would probably help as well.

Ceilings arched high overhead as he stopped at a junction. Unbidden, his gaze drifted down another path, struck by an unexpected urge to talk to someone. But who? Alfred had enough to deal with. Dick would be asleep. And Bruce... he definitely didn't want to disturb Mr Wayne at this time of night. Besides, it was a just dream. A dream of a memory maybe, but he could handle it. They didn't need to hear it, didn't need to be woken up over something that couldn't be changed. He was almost sixteen; he should be able to handle a _nightmare_ on his own.

The halfa shook his head again, setting his feet down their original course. Ornate wallpaper followed him on his way, past elaborate mouldings, antique oak pillars, intricate gas-lamps fitted with electric bulbs - all probably as old as the building itself even if they looked brand new. The occasional passageway broke the walls, heading off to parts unknown. He ignored them, resisting the faint temptation to distract himself with exploring. It wasn't that he wasn't allowed to - Dick had already pulled him along on several 'expeditions' and Alfred said he was free to go where he liked - but the manor was so _big_. Twisting warrens of halls and service corridors, locked and unlocked doors, concealed entrances... his old house ten times over with room left for the neighbours'. A wrong turn here could mean hours of getting lost. And anyway...

The hall widened ahead of him, opening onto one of the mansion's sweeping staircases. Above a chandelier swung from the roof, crystals hanging like shards of ice. Danny shivered, crossing his arms against a chill that had little to do with the snow outside. He could _feel_ himself shrink, reduced to a child by the sheer immenseness of the space. It dwarfed him with its size. The familiar ache returned as he stole down the steps, barefoot, clad in the long grey shirt and sweats that served as pyjamas. Everything here was too big for him - the manor, Gotham City, Batman and Robin, top-tier heroes... Sure, maybe back in Amity he'd been something special. Or at least, _half_ of him might have been. But if months on the road had shown him anything it was that, in the eyes of the world, Amity Park was just another small, no-name town. Just like he was. Small-town. One foot in front of the other, three-bedroom houses and cramped, dingy motels. His 'everything' barely made the map. And-

He was being ungrateful he supposed. They could have just as easily passed him by. Put him into some form of protection, pushed him off into someone else's custody - or simply turned and left once they had their answers. But despite everything, the hassles he put them through, the obvious dangers... they'd invited him to stay. Offered him a place to live, clean clothes, the closest thing to safety he could get within four walls... had wanted to _help_ , even with the risk to themselves. And... His lips twitched into something that on a better day might have been a smile. It had taken a while to notice. There was always an excuse; being bored, wanting to discuss homework, having news to share, there just-so-happening to be something that needed sorting or fixing or cleaning - somehow Dick and Alfred always managed to find reasons to be where he was. It had irked him at first - he knew the rules, knew how to take care of himself - until he realised what they were doing. Not supervising, not pushing at all, just... _being there_. Very subtly, very determinedly not leaving him on his own. And he appreciated it.

Even if it... wasn't... the same as...

' _Cut it out Fenton_.' The halfa jerked his chin sharply, hooking fingers into the fabric of his sleeves. He shouldn't feel this way, didn't _need_ to feel this way. Not now. Not after so long.

But still...

Winter lingered underfoot as he slipped into the smooth, cool tiling of the kitchen. Light stabbed his eyes, pale blades streaming through the spotless windows, turning the room to a landscape of abstract blacks and greys. He paused, unwilling to fumble blindly through the dark but instinctively reluctant to turn on the light. It didn't make sense of course - the building was too large, rooms to far away from each other or the outside world to disturb anyone. Still... the hybrid sighed, reaching internally for the icy point beside his heart. Prickling cold surged through his veins, freezing his eyes as a familiar green-tinted glow lifted the shadows. Feet were placed carefully, tracing a cautious path around the benches. Glass clinked in his hands, ears distantly registering the hiss of the tap as water swirled to fill a cup. He shut it off, carrying his prize over to the stools by the island counter. The room faded, night rushing to reclaim the space as he released his hold on the ectoplasm. Liquid rippled in the glass. He raised it to his mouth. Tightness seemed to swell in his throat; pushing back against the water instead of being washed away. His lungs clenched. Danny exhaled, cradling the drink with both hands as a thumb absently traced the rim. Dull pressure crept along his jaw, spreading upward to his temples. Why? Why now? Why did it have to happen tonight, just when he thought...

Although it wasn't really that surprising. The date, the dream. He knew. He'd kept count - of course he had, it was all but habit by now. The clock had been running down for days, stewing at the back of his mind, jabbing his thoughts... setting him on edge, no matter how many times he assured Dick that it was nothing. That he told himself it was fine. Day fourteen. His two-week limit. The limit that he absolutely _did not cross_ , that, until a few weeks ago, he'd never _let_ himself cross. The point which meant either capture or committing to a place. He'd known it was coming. Their offer had been long-term after all, a permanent change, not just a pit-stop on the road. He'd acknowledged that, had _accepted_ those terms when he'd chosen to come with them. But still, the difference between knowing and _doing_ , between _thinking_ about something and actually _being_ there, living it... yet here he was, no routes planned, no new destination lined up, no contingencies. He lifted the cup again, water lapping up to the rim, an audible clack echoing as the base connected with the benchtop. Shoulders hunched, chewing his lower lip as a hand lifted to rub his face. So he _was_ staying then? Was really going to take that risk? To hold his ground? Actually _let_ himself settle? And if he did, could he ever... could he _bring_ himself to call another place...

 _It was controlled chaos, the kind that made no sense to outsiders but had an underlying pattern, predictable because he'd spent his whole life surrounded by it. The walls were closer, the finishes cheaper, a not-quite-clutter always hanging around the edges... but comfortable, never cramped. There was the cool smell of metal, mixing with harsh tangs of ectoplasm and clinical detergents, the cloying sweetness of fudge, slightly-burned pancakes and the mustiness of old book pages. The loudness of four voices talking over each other, competing against the buzz of random inventions, psychology, core stabilisation, particle electronics, biology, English assignments, upgrades to the Fenton-thermos and blathering on about ghosts. The closeness of familiar hands, the distance that came from well-kept secrets._

 _He wanted to go back._

 _'_ _Stop it.'_ Glass creaked against his fingers as the halfa clenched his teeth. That was _enough_. He'd known the cost of their choice when they'd made it. They _all_ had. A one-way trip. It was always going to be. They'd talked about it for days, weighing all the possibilities, as many alternatives as they could think of. In the end they'd all agreed; a decision that wasn't really a decision. And if there were regrets now, well he just had to live with that. But _pining_ over what had been... was stupid. Wouldn't bring it back. Couldn't fix things. Useless. Pointless. A colossal waste of everyone's time. He shouldn't-

"Master Daniel?"

It took all Danny's focus not to turn invisible then and there. As it was he twitched violently, hand slipping _through_ the glass, nearly upsetting the chair as he twisted to face the door. The intruder seemed just as surprised - frozen, tray-in-hand with one foot over the threshold.

They stared at each other.

"Oh." Heat rushed to the halfa's ears. "Hi Alfred." He managed a strained smile, suddenly painfully aware of his crude defensive stance. With an awkward cough he forced himself back onto the stool. "Um, what..." Guilty thoughts flickered back to the trip along the corridors. "I didn't disturb you, did I?"

"Not at all sir." Belatedly he noticed the older man's crisp suit and polished shoes. One thing less to worry about. As for why he was sitting alone in a darkened room... somehow Alfred seemed to understand. Or at very least the butler chose not to question it, leaving the switch untouched as he stepped into the space with an ease that spoke of decades of practice. The tray's contents tinkled as they were set down by the sink. "An alarm needed resetting and I happened to find myself in the mood for refreshment. Although," he half-turned from the counter, "I must say I wasn't expecting company." The underlying question went politely unsaid. Danny shifted under the concerned gaze, eyes dropping to the glass in his hands. A moment passed in uncomfortable silence before the butler sighed, turning back to face the windows. "It would appear that the weatherman was right," he mused, staring out into the night, "The snow does seem to be blowing over." A glance came carefully over his shoulder, "I for one am looking forward to the start of spring. It will be good to see some clear days."

"Mm," the halfa nodded, unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed by the Englishman's reaction. Emptiness rose again, tugging his eyes back to the older man. Alfred watched in return, expression unreadable before shifting, moving down the bench to a shadowed niche in the cupboards. Hinges squeaked almost imperceptibly, the faint chime of porcelain and tiny shifts in the dark betraying the elder man's motions.

A voice drifted back along the counters. "Is there anything I can get you?"

Danny shook his head. "I'm fine." There was still water in the glass and with the... way things were, anything else seemed like a bad idea. A pause followed before the voice returned; this time quieter, more measured.

"Are you really sir?" He knew Alfred wasn't asking about food.

"It's nothing."

Shadows made it difficult to see for sure, but something told him that the Englishman was looking his way. He ducked his chin, refocussing on his hands. "It must be a particularly strong brand of 'nothing'," the butler probed gently, "to have you wandering the halls at the witching hour."

He honestly had no idea how to respond to that.

For a while it was quiet, broken only by soft rustling and clinks from deeper in the kitchen. A spoon clattered against the countertop. Steam rushed with the bubbling of a kettle. Danny lifted the cup again, resisting the urge to glance into the dark. Waves rolled through the last of the water as he set it down, tilting the glass back and forward on its edge before draining it completely. It twisted in his hands as he lowered it, making a study of his fingers. A thin white line sliced through one of his knuckles. He frowned, unable to remember what had caused it. Odds were it was something ghost related, but even then... ever since he'd received his powers he'd healed fast. An ironic benefit of being half dead; most injuries wouldn't leave a mark unless severe or caused by specialised equipment. ' _Or both_.' An old throb pulsed down his collarbone. He pushed back a shiver, focusing on the faint, pale cut. His small handful of scars were memorable for exactly that reason. This one though... Movement jolted Danny back to the present, attention snapping upwards as a teacup was set down on the opposite site of the bench. Alfred settled on the stool, sliding a second cup and a smile across the table. The halfa accepted it gingerly, tugging the saucer towards him with a mumbled thanks. Steam rose from the surface in weird patterns, kind grey eyes surveying him through the tendrils of vapour. An unexpected lump formed in his throat. He looked away.

"Master Daniel?" Blue eyes peeked cautiously through the halfa's fringe, biting his lip as he forced himself to meet the butler's gaze. A look of steady calm answered, the same not-quite-questioning concern. Words rested on the tip of his tongue. He swallowed them back, breaking contact with a tiny shake of the head.

It wasn't worth talking about.

Cloth rustled as the elder man leaned forward. "If I may," the dryness of his tone surprised him, "I find that hiding alone in the dark is rarely an effective way to solve the problem at hand - no matter what other members of this household might have you believe." Danny couldn't quite help the small snort that escaped. Amusement flickered across the Englishman's face, an eyebrow arching with something that, in anyone else, might have been mischief. His own mouth twitched reluctantly in answer.

"I couldn't sleep."

"I believe I've already deduced that sir," Alfred replied lightly. The smile faded, "Could I ask why?"

A lot of reasons. Feelings, thoughts, habits. Memories. "I... It was a dream." The simplest answer was the easiest one.

"'To sleep perchance'..." Sympathy laced the musing. A delicate pause followed. "Might I ask what of?"

That was the question. Danny wrapped his hands around the teacup. Hollowness crept back in, dragging guilt along with it. He didn't want to lie to the butler, but saying it just felt so... _ungrateful_. They'd taken him in from nothing. From pointless flight between cities, progress in inches if any at all. How else could it sound after that? At best the older man would be insulted. At worst...

"...Of the night we left. You know," the halfa kept his eyes on the table, looking everywhere except the butler, "Amity."

"Ah." Alfred's voice was almost too understanding. Danny flashed him an apologetic glance, relieved when the Englishman didn't seem too offended. More... expectant, really. Like he was waiting for something else. Heat prickled through the china to the halfa's palms. He lifted the cup mechanically, taking a mouthful to avoid having to continue. An attempt to delay the inevitable conversation. Warmth trickled into his chest.

"Is it really okay for me to be here?" The words were out before the young ghost really knew what he was saying.

Concern sharpened into something more serious. "Of _course_ it is." Alfred frowned, gaze suddenly piercing. "Whatever would make you think otherwise?"

"Um," he winced, scrambling for the right answer, "it's - it's not that I'm not grateful. I appreciate all of this, really, I do - it's just..." What was he meant to say? Uncertainty hung in the air, echoing back from a space that seemed much larger than it was supposed to be. Past, present, questions about the future... it was all a mess, jumbling together, disconnected, alien and uncomfortably real. Where would he even start? The memory? The dream? The road, the accident, _the incident_ , his time alone, Dani? The sense that he should still be out there, hanging on instead of moving forward, instead of turning the page like he knew he should. "It's a lot of risk to all of you." It wasn't a lie. But it was only a small part of the truth.

The butler was silent for a moment. "I suppose there _is_ something to that. _However_ ," he straightened, fixing the halfa with a look equal parts solemn and sincere, "you must understand that - while undoubtedly perilous for a small group or individual alone - a situation such as yours is something we are well-prepared for. I know it may seem an odd comfort, but we are no strangers to threat - whether through Master Bruce's public position or his... other hobbies. Great pains have been taken to ensure that the manor and its," Alfred paused, " _basement_ are protected, against both physical encroachment and even the most persistent of searchers." On that point Danny could only agree. One of the earliest parts of his arrival had been a security briefing. _Batman_ style. Everything from the defence system, secret passages between the manor and the cave, hidden escape routes, protocols to ensure that neither Fenton nor Phantom would be exposed should either location be compromised... "As you know," he looked up as the elder man continued, "our plans and systems are regularly updated in order to stay ahead of new developments. It was little trouble to include a few additional pieces for your benefit."

"I guess..." It wasn't as though he could argue with that. Or that he really wanted to. Equipment, experience, a public presence... Bruce, Dick and Alfred were undeniably better able to handle things. Too many safeguards for anyone to get past easily. Too well-known to just 'disappear' without notice. That much he could believe. "It just seems like a lot." What was difficult was the idea that _he_ could somehow fit in to that picture - to a place with some of the best protection in existence, where upgrading a multi-thousand-dollar security system in less than a week was 'little trouble'. "I mean, you have enough to deal with without..." the halfa flicked a hand in an explanatory gesture. "And I'm not," he snorted humourlessly, "you know. I'm just me."

Alfred regarded him curiously, eyebrows lifting over a bemused expression. "Well, considering it was _your_ intervention that spared Master Dick and his companions from what, by all accounts, would have been an unpleasant fate - not to mention the information you've given Master Bruce regarding your ecto-technology..." He smiled, "I'd say a safe space to continue seems fair repayment."

"That-" The halfa could feel his neck burning, "that was nothing." He squirmed, scratching the affected area as heat inched towards his ears. "I mean..." Of course he was going to give them ecto-tech. Blueprints, research papers, discs of Tucker's programs, lists of the ghosts he'd faced... information was what they needed, and they could make much better use of it than him. Besides, wasn't that his side of the deal? Information? The proposal went both ways after all. Pretty much the only thing he _could_ contribute. And considering what he'd got in return... he was the one who owed _them_. Not the other way around. Even if he had 'helped' Robin in Portland. That whole situation... he really wished Dick and Alfred would stop treating what happened like it had been some act of calculated heroism. He'd hardly even _had_ a plan; find the ghost, hope whoever it was was friendly enough or smart enough to have news, kick anything dangerous into the thermos before it could cause trouble. That was it. Do the job, try to stay hidden, don't expect anything in return. Once it was _Spectra_... exposure risk or not, there was no way he could leave someone like that. He certainly hadn't been trying to earn points. Their costumes, what they meant - exactly _who_ he'd shaken hands with hadn't fully sunk in until later. And sure, maybe he'd expected they would investigate - and maybe it was part of why he'd run - but he definitely _hadn't_ expected that they'd care enough to bother tracking him down in person. Let alone what came after. That he'd be trusted with secrets, offered a place in their _home_...

He wasn't sure what his face looked like but Alfred seemed to see something in it.

"You know, sir," the Englishman's voice turned shrewd, "while admirable, I find it hard to believe that concern for our safety was enough to prompt tonight's venture. Or your own, for that matter." Alfred set down his cup, pinning the halfa with a steady gaze. "I understand that you may not wish to talk about it, but I feel something else is weighing on your mind. Or," he carefully scrutinised his face, "perhaps somewhere?"

A shiver arrived. It crawled through Danny's shoulders, wrapping fingers around his lungs as his stomach twisted. Guilty sickness churned, rising to a throat that was too hot and tight for the for the one-and-a-half cups in front of him. Stupid really, attempting to hide anything from anyone in _this_ house. He managed a small, stiff nod in answer.

"I take it then, that the nature of your dream...?" Danny blinked in surprise. He'd expected a reprimand. Well, not exactly - it was _Alfred_ after all - but some kind of judgement. A small frown, a note of disapproval. But no. It was... a little unsettling actually, to be met with the same patient sympathy as before. The halfa locked his fingers together slowly, weighing his options. Whether to respond. What to say. Politeness. Pride. The voice of hard-earned pragmatism or the familiar ache of old advice.

He closed his eyes.

"I miss it." Part of him hated the words, hated himself for the confession. "And I _know_ that sounds ungrateful and I know I shouldn't but... sometimes I wish I could..." pain shook the halfa back to reality, "but I can't and then everything's different, and it's all happening so fast and I don't-" He shrugged helplessly. "I guess I don't know anymore."

Silence was deafening. It echoed around the room, deep, and brittle. Itchingly uncomfortable. Danny kept his eyes fixed firmly on the stone countertop, ears stinging in the wake of the outburst. Already it felt embarrassing. _Weak_. The pathetic breakdown of a kid spooked by a nightmare. He shrank slightly, wishing he could vanish under the weight of the piercing stare. He wanted to fall through the floor. If it had been anyone else - _anywhere_ else – he might have given in to temptation, used his powers to do just that. A few agonisingly long seconds passed before he felt the stare lessen. There was the clink of a cup against a saucer, the gentle scrape of china being pushed to one side. He felt rather than saw the butler lean forward, the folding of hands on the benchtop. A moment of heavy, wordless consideration. What followed was softer, less reserved than before.

"Change can be hard Master Daniel. This house has seen its share and, even if they seem simple, such transitions always come with a period of adjustment. And after where you've been..." he heard the older man shift, "considering the circumstances I'd think it quite natural for you to have some difficulty settling. It was hardly a small step." The young ghost gave a lifeless nod, suddenly very interested in a crease near his sleeve. It was an argument he knew too well. One of Jazz's 'go-to's whenever things got tough on the road. Maybe it had been true at the start but it was old now. Leaving things behind, starting over... that was _normal_. He was used to it. Prepared. Or, at least, he thought. "But," Alfred was speaking again, "I hope you understand that we do not expect you to _abandon_ yourself by being here. It's true that our... _secrets_ make distance somewhat necessary, but who you are and what you've done is just as important as anything you may do now." He paused. "Obviously, there are a few rules to keep, but choosing to be part of this life does not mean signing our own away entirely. Master Dick keeps track of his circus. Master Bruce still communicates with certain childhood friends."

"And you?" Danny braved a look upwards.

Alfred smiled. "Outside of Master Bruce's circle? A few relatives in London. Though I would not say we are close." Knuckles tapped against the counter as the Englishman's mouth pulled into a pensive line. "In any case sir, what I mean to say is; please do not feel that you would be leaving anything - or anyone - behind by being here. And-" his voice was carefully gentle, "if you'll forgive my saying so - somehow I doubt that your family would resent your accepting outside help if they could not provide it themselves. It's not a crime to seek companionship. We certainly would not be so arrogant as to attempt to replace them."

His throat closed again. The halfa swallowed, faint shake suddenly loud in each breath. _Something_ lingered in the air; painful in an oddly comforting way, sharp and delicate as glass.

"Now," the butler's words moved through the space without breaking it, "as for being a burden. As you know sir, the Manor was built to house more than a dozen. With his company, Master Bruce could undoubtedly fund several times more. A single new resident is hardly a _strain_ on our resources." There was a long-suffering sigh, "Especially when you consider what our _other_ housemates routinely manage to get themselves up to." The sheer resigned pride in his voice drew a weak chuckle from the hybrid. Alfred hummed quietly. "Besides… as you may have noticed, our duo is extremely resourceful. Had Master Bruce - or Master Dick for that matter - felt unwilling, or unable, to have you in our home then they would have devised an alternative." A lined, wise hand caught his wrist, grey eyes meeting blue with a soft smile. "The very fact that you are here shows that they _wanted_ you to be. You needn't doubt that."

Breathing suddenly became a lot harder.

With a gentle squeeze the hand withdrew. "I know it may seem difficult. I dare say _impossible_ at times but, in the words of Frost; life goes on. Even when we feel it perhaps should not." The older man watched him kindly. "I – _we_ – hope that you would one day be able to consider this home; but only once and _if_ you feel it is right. When that time comes – and even if it doesn't – we will be here. Until then… Sometimes it is enough to just make of things what you can. And trust that they will get better with time. Though," his eyes twinkled, "perhaps not always without effort."

Silence reigned as Alfred settled onto his chair, pulling the saucer back in front of him. Nothing more was said; the butler seemed content to sit in peace, finishing his tea as the halfa slowly collected himself. Danny rubbed the circles beneath his eyes, handling each word carefully as they shifted into place around him. There was a steadying, a gradual uncurling of the lungs, settling into the space, the cold tiles and not-quite-familiar rooms. The weight in his chest seemed lighter. Not _gone_ by any means, but lessened - manageable rather than the near-crushing heaviness of before. Even the quiet was still. Not heavy. Not awkward. He didn't feel any need to say something; to excuse himself from the room or gloss over it with small-talk. It was fine. Not comfortable – not yet – but enough. They could just sit. Listen. To the silence. To the creak of wind against the windows, the post-snowfall stillness that came with knowing everyone else was asleep. The faint sounds of breathing. He realised that he didn't mind the butler being there anywhere near as much as he'd thought.

Somewhere deep in the house a clock chimed the quarter hour.

"You know," with a sigh Alfred rose to his feet, "I believe it's high time I was heading back to bed." He lifted the crockery with one hand, offering the hybrid a questioning smile. "Would you like me to..?"

"Oh. Uh… Yeah." Danny quickly drained the end of his cup, sliding it across the bench. "Thanks." The last part didn't really cover it but he thought the older man understood anyway.

"Not at all." China rattled against the sink and the bubbling tap as the Englishman turned, stacking cups neatly away. Hands were dried before he turned back, gesturing to the door with the same grandfatherly concern. "Please, after you."

* * *

The walk back was… different. They took the same path he'd used to get there, retracing steps up the sweeping staircases, down corridors just as long with ceilings just as high. Still, something had changed. Alfred was a warm, unspeaking presence at his shoulder, an occasional comment when he was confused at junctions or close to taking a wrong turn. He was grateful for that – it gave him time to think, to sort out the mess inside his head. Perhaps it wasn't the place itself but the atmosphere. Before there had been a _presence_ – hovering in the weight and sprawl of the walls, the vast, spotless grandeur, shadowy modern-gothic vibe and ornate furnishings. A place steeped in long bloodlines and old money, a social class so far above his that he shouldn't even _set_ _foot_ in it, let alone think of staying. Now… it was a house. An enormous, old, stupidly expensive house but still – just a house. It had its own brand of chaos, people living their lives, following their own – admittedly seriously abnormal – routines. Walls were walls, doors were doors, corridors took them places. And yes, it was still a mansion, and then there was the _cave_ – that would never not be weird – but he could deal. After all, Dick came from a circus and _he'd_ managed it just fine. Maybe there was hope for a ghost-kid too.

Maybe.

Given how long the first trip had seemed, the halfa was honestly surprised to find himself outside his own door. For a moment he continued, taking two steps past it before a gentle cough drew his attention. The butler was no longer at his side.

With an apologetic look he doubled back. "Sorry. I was just-"

"-lost in thought?" The older man's question was plain but he could hear the smile behind it. "Quite understandable I think." He studied him for a moment. "Will you be alright?"

"I - Yeah… Thank you." The halfa put as much sincerity as he could into the words.

Alfred's gaze was careful as he nodded. "If there's _anything_ you need, sir – anything at all - please don't hesitate to ask."

He shook his head slightly, reaching for the handle. "I'll be okay."

The butler began to walk away.

"Um - Alfred?" Actually, there was _one_ thing. He'd been meaning to ask for a while, but now… if he really _was_ going to be staying… "It's, uh," he rubbed his neck sheepishly as the Englishman turned. "It's Danny, please. No-one actually uses my full name."

Alfred's smile broadened. "Of course." He got the feeling that the butler was considering something more. There was a thoughtful pause. "You know, given the circumstances I would not be surprised if your alarm somehow failed to work in the morning." An eyebrow arched at the halfa's incredulous look. His eyes danced. "Have a good night, sir. And please, do try to get some rest."

Danny bit back a grin. "Right. You too."

The first few quiet footsteps faded down the hall as he slipped back inside.

* * *

It was pitch black – he hadn't bothered to turn the lights on before leaving – but after a few seconds his eyes adjusted enough to move safely. Reaching the bed, he flicked on the lamp, watching the warm yellow light it threw across the room. He flopped onto the edge of the mattress, considering the butler's suggestion before pushing himself upright to hit the mute button on the clock. For a while he sat, eyes roaming the blank, papered walls, the rows of empty shelves. On sudden impulse he rolled over, stomach pressing into the covers as he searched under the bed, fumbling for a travelsack that had remained half-packed despite the offers of help. The halfa reached inside, feeling his way past the ear of a stuffed bear, the corner of a PDA, cardboard tubes and other trinkets he wasn't ready to handle until his fingers closed on the cool metal curve he sought. He eased it free, carefully closing and stowing the bag before pushing himself back up. Light caught the strange metal boomerang as he turned it over, running a thumb over the familiar plate-work, the raised silver 'F' pressed into the centre of a small green ghost. With a click it hummed into life, a tiny light winking into being on the nose. Danny handled it a moment longer before standing, setting it gently in the centre of the shelf. He took a step back, appreciating the way the lamplight played on its surface, the small but significant change it made to the space. It felt more solid somehow; not quite home, but warm and present and _real_. He blinked, suddenly, _peacefully_ tired. Alfred was right. The halfa crawled under the sheets, rolling to face the ornament as a hand reached up to switch off the light.

His eyes found its silhouette in the dark as he finally drifted back to sleep.

* * *

 **So apparently, I am alive. And, as promised, here is the chapter.**

 **In all honestly I do feel a little bad that this is what I have for you. After a year and bit you'd think I could throw in some high-paced action, lame puns and people in costume doing superhero-ish things. Instead you get an emotionally inarticulate character trying to articulate his emotions. Very inconsiderate of me. Although, to be fair, I did start this in January of 2016 (before the chaos that was) and it has been a very hard chapter to write. It's certainly a weird one. Blame the flashback scene at the start. (Remember how I said that Team Phantom would be making posthumous appearances? This is not the last time.) Definitely a challenge – there's so little physical stuff happening, and at the same time whole lot of internalisation and emotion to balance. Very experimental. Plus a bit of backstory and a bunch of small details to work in.**

 **I would love to hear constructive criticism. I like to think I came sort of close to what I was aiming for, and I did try to keep it from getting boring or falling off the emotional tightrope, but the question is; did it work? Like it, hate it, think it could be better, didn't really understand? Please let me know. (if the last one, PM me and I will try to explain it better for you)**

 **Thus ends the unofficial 'Arc I' of YJ:DW. Now we venture forth into the territory of more team-based stuff and proper story arcs with actual action. I for one have big plans, and time not spend writing this chapter has gone into the making of notes – many, many notes – so hopefully things will pick up a bit. Hopefully. No promises. Feel free to yell if I take more than a year again.**

 **Finally, digital cookies to anyone who recognises the book I took the chapter title from (it has one of the same name). Bonus points if you can spot the Shakespeare reference in the main text and tell me the play/ scene. Happy hunting!**

 **As always, thanks for reading and please review. I will happily answer any and all PMs, so feel free to do that too.**

 **Until next we meet,**

 **-3WD**


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